GIFT  OF 

THOMAS  RUTHERFORD 


CLASSICAL  POEMS 


BY 


WILLIAM  ENTRIKEN  BAILY. 


Hoc  est 
Vivere  bis,  vita  posse  priore  frtii. 

—  MARTIAL 


PRESS  OF 

ROBERT  CLARKE  &  CO. 

CINCINNATI,  O 

1892. 


Copyright,   1891.  by  WILLIAM  ENTRIKEN  BAILV. 


PREFACE. 


IT  may  be  well  to  refer  to  some  of  the  conditions  by  which  the 
essential  number  of  the  poems  in  this  book  has  been  produced. 
Though  they  are  not  all  classical  in  subjects,  yet  those  that  are  not 
are  often  classical  in  spirit,  as  well  as  lyrical.  They  owe  their  or 
igin  first,  to  temperamental  characteristics  ;  secondly,  to  the  animus 
of  a  great  deal  of  what  constitutes  orthodox  English  poetry,  as  found 
in  the  pages  of  SHAKESPEARE,  MILTON,  COLLINS,  KEATS,  WORDS 
WORTH  and  TENNYSON,  with,  perhaps,  influences  at  work  from 
SHELLEY  and  his  school.  The  undercurrent  of  meaning  of  the 
poems,  in  many  cases,  is  didactic,  as  much  so  (if  not  more)  as  cer 
tain  passages  in  SPENSER'S  "  Fairy  Queen."  It  has  been  shown  by 
eminent  critics  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  that  this  is  a  false 
principle  in  the  art  of  verse  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  has  been  shown  by 
other  eminent  critics  that  it  is  a  true  one.  If  a  reader  of  an  epic 
feels  that  its  strain,  its  intellectual  tenor,  its  grouping  of  noble 
characters  for  instructive  effects,  its  subtile  agreements  with  the 
finer  elements  of  civilization  perpetually  in  play  (that  have  been 
taught  the  author  by  the  philosophers,  moralists  and  theologians 
of  his  time),  and  the  occasional  free  display  of  them  in  the  course 
of  the  story,  are  of  the  didactic  kind,  his  feelings  must  certainly 
be  a  judge  to  himself  in  the  matter,  but  not  to  others.  His  emo 
tions  naturally  appropriate  to  themselves  what  supports  the  nature 
of  their  instincts,  this  nature  having  perhaps  an  entirely  different 
bias  in  another  reader,  and  thus  the  two  are  unable  to  feel  and  see 
in  a  like  manner,  not  only  in  the  perusal  of  an  epic,  but  also  of  a 
drama  at  its  best.  Two  able  readers,  of  unlike  bent  in  appreci 
ation,  may  write  in  combination  a  critique  on  an  epic,  and  do  it 
justice;  but  it  often  takes  four  to  write  one  on  a  drama  with  the 

same  result,  because  the  elements  in  it  are  of  a  more  complex  order. 

(in) 

267898 


iv  PREFACE. 

It  inclines,  even  in  its  tragic  form,  to  the  pleasurable  in  a  more 
obvious  way.  Notwithstanding  that  SHAKESPEARE  represents  the 
spirit  of  the  troubadour  in  his  plays — plays  most  especially  ad 
dressed  to  the  courtiers,  the  pedants,  the  pleasure-seekers  and  the 
men-about-town  of  his  day — the  didactic,  mingled  with  the  real 
and  the  ideal,  is  frequently  presenting  itself;  notably  in  his  apho 
risms,  in  his  numerous  outlines  suggesting  the  moral  artist,  in  his 
use  of  what  is  called  .poetic  justice,  in  his  ethical  tendencies  as  a 
whole  (above  those  of  other  dramatists  of  his  time),  and  in  his 
sense  of  responsibility  to  the  higher  consciousness  of  humanity.  In 
JOHN  MILTON  we  find  the  spirit  of  the  Puritan— a  spirit  that  easily 
adjusted  itself  to  what  is  harsh  and  doctrinal  in  life  and  religion, 
for  the  scholastic  spirit  to  take  up  and  form  into  a  long  narrative 
poem  of  undoubted  didactic  type.  He  was  too  much  of  a  scholar 
and  a  man  of  genius  not  to  know  the  value  of  art  in  clothing  his 
doctrines  as  a  mere  thinker  of  common  experience  ;  and  he  was 
too  much  of  a  scholar  and  a  man  of  fine  instincts  not  to  know  the 
value  of  SHAKESPEARE  to  other  mere  thinkers  of  the  doctrinal  class 
would  they  but  see  him  through  the  eye  of  scholarship.  His  lines 
to  the  great  dramatist  are  in  this  respect  very  significant.  We  thus 
see  in  SPENSER  the  didactic  is  a  controlling  principle ;  in  SHAKES 
PEARE  it  is  an  occasional,  but  still  a  manifest  principle ;  and  in 
JOHN  MILTON  it  is,  as  with  SPENSER,  a  controlling  principle.  Com 
ing  down  to  WORDSWORTH,  we  find  it  a  settled  principle  with  him, 
his  name  alone  suggesting  virtue,  honor,  reverence,  duty,  love,  hu 
mility,  honest  poverty,  time  and  fate,  abstract  qualities  holding  an 
ever  varying  relation  through  his  muse  to  the  strictest  rules  of 
didactics  in  prosaic  life.  If  a  philosophical  sect  were  now  formed 
after  the  manner  of  some  of  those  of  the  ancients,  having  in  view 
the  mere  teaching  of  moral  laws,  it  would  without  a  doubt  derive 
much  help,  not  only  from  WORDSWORTH,  but  also  from  many  of 
hjs  poetical  contemporaries  and  successors  in  point  of  time  who 
have  the  beautiful  before  them,  yet  who  show,  unconsciously,  a 
presence — a  main  idea  or  a  stray  idea — in  their  poems  akin  to  the 
inculcation  of  a  precept  or  precepts.  The  love  of  certain  higher 


attributes  in  man  leads  to  an  idealization  of  them  in  statuary  and 
painting;  and  to  say  that  poetry  of  the  beautiful  should  ignore 
such  attributes,  is  to  say  that  it  is  inferior  in  its  mission  to  stat 
uary  and  painting — is  to  ascribe  to  it  an  inherent  tone  of  weak 
ness — is  to  charge  it  with  inability  to  embody  with  itself  the  fact 
that  this  age  is  pre-eminently  didactic  in  its  drift.  As  for  the  suc 
cessful  expression  of  the  beautiful,  with  its  impalpable  essence,  no 
other  century,  not  excepting  the  Elizabethan  era,  equals  the  pres 
ent  one  in  its  list  of  poems.  Such  writers  as  KEATS,  SHELLEY  and 
TENNYSON  have  given  to  the  English-speaking  world  examples  in 
this  respect  very  difficult  to  surpass.  The  poet-laureate,  in  par 
ticular,  has  an  influence  over  his  readers  through  a  mastered  craft 
that  sublimates  whatever  it  touches,  and  that  tends  to  add  to  their 
perceptions  of  the  noble  and  to  broaden  their  existence  in  a  wise 
way.  In  this  regard,  and  in  others,  he  takes  a  decided  superiority 
over  either  SHELLEY  or  KEATS,  and  holds  strong  connections  with 
WORDSWORTH  and  MILTON,  also  with  SPENSER  in  an  esthetic  way. 
It  thus  can  be  seen  the  system  of  poetry  has  for  one  of  its  prime 
resources  the  didactic,  infusing  into  its  work,  as  it  does,  elements 
of  usefulness,  reality  and  strength.  A  moral  meaning  may  be  pre 
sented  so  as  to  impress  its  purpose  too  emphatically;  then  it  tends 
not  to  high  art — it  tends  to  utility  for  utility's  sake — to  the  ground 
where  prose  wears  the  mask  of  rhyme.  IP  a  true  poem,  some 
essential  fact  of  life,  the  soul  of  the  piece,  reveals  itself  in  an  unity 
of  details,  the  fact  losing  itself  apparently  in  the  details  at  times, 
but  in  its  impression  as  a  whole  it  is  effective  in  inducing  a  frame 
of  mind  in  the  reader  more  favorable  to  its  cause  than  in  a  single 
rigorous  disclosure  of  itself.  In  this  case  the  charm  and  the  lesson 
go  hand-in-hand,  and  the  Powers  that  rule  over  the  destiny  of 
poetry  are  generally  satisfied. 

In  offering  these  explanations,  it  is  with  no  desire  to  make  cer 
tain  ideas  in  a  matter  of  art  obtrusive,  but  with  a  desire  to  supply 
information  that  in  its  absence  might  make  the  poems  herein 
printed  seem  to  be  without  a  key,  holding  as  they  do  relations  to 
English  literature  of  a  kind  indicated.  W.  E.  B. 


INDEX  TO  POEMS. 


I'AGE. 

Prelude   9 

The  Queen  of  Dreamland y u 

The  Hero  and  the  Wife 20 

Horace 28 

The  Choice  of  Alcides 34 

The  City  in  Ruins 42 

Down  Amid  the  Shadows. 46 

The  Plato  of  the  Town 49 

The  Recluse 53 

The  Insistence  of  Nature 56 

Tempus  Fugit 59 

Steppi ng-Stones 63 

Sleep ...  70 

Old  Age 72 

Beauty 74 

Aurora  — 76 

Adversity 79 

Fate  and  Prophecy 80 

May 80 

The  Sybarite 81 

The  Birth  of  Venus 83 

Pomona 85 

My  Lady 87 

At  Sea 89 

The  Caged  Bird 91 

The  Royal  Road 93 

The  Appian  Way 95 

The  Statue 97 

The  Island 101 

Before  and  After  the  Voyage 107 


PRELUDE. 

WHAT  blissfulness  'twould  be  Apollo's  lyre 

To  hear  at  June's  bright  dawn,  by  night's  star-fire, 

As  come  and  go  life's  vagaries  !     Replete 

With  sounds  that  charm  would  be  the  matchless  feat 
To  form  web-works  of  tone  !     The  high-born  choir, 
Who  sing  through  time,  whose  harmonies  inspire 

Fancy's  ardency,  aspiration  meet, 

Courage,  nobleness,  sympathies  concrete, 
How  they  seem  demi-gods  !     Them  modify 

Hope's  own  art  ever  breathing  in  control, 
She  through  them  speaking;   for  each  death-dull  eye 

She  wakes,  bids  lips  partake  from  her  strange  bowl, 
Emboldens  hands  to  strive,  man's  strength  to  ply 

To  gain  the  power  that  was  Apollo's  soul. 


(ix) 


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SSICAIi    POEMS. 

THE    QUEEN    OF   DREAMLAND. 

I. 

T  DREAMED. — Venus  approached  with  languid  air. 
More  near  she  seemed  as  one  full  meet  to  dwell 
In  ideal  realms  encrowned  with  honors  rare 

'Mong  Fancy's  spirits  deemed  ineffable ; 
Yet  made  her  footsteps  prints  upon  the  sand; 
They  proved  a  being  true  of  Day's  Dreamland. 

II. 

A  palace  stood  anear;  it  was  a  pile 

That  covered  acres  with  majestic  weight; 

Its  marble  art  was  of  a  simple  style; 

On  roofs  were  domes,  each  with  an  ancient  trait, 

As  gleaming  roses  swayed  in  urns  anear, 

And  odored  well  the  summer  atmosphere. 

in. 
Had  outlooks  wide  high  windows  here  and  there 

Upon  green  dales  and  distant  mountain  points ; 
Portals  the  facade  graced  with  arches  rare, 

Their  brazen  hinges  shining  in  the  joints; 
Long  porticos  there  stood  that  mildly  shed 
Their  column-shades  on  steps  that  upward  spread. 


12  "CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

IV. 

Venus  moved  on  with  head  inclining  low, 

Nearing  a  portal  dark.     She  was  alone; 
She  mused,  and  feared  awhile  within  to  go ; 

The  deep,  dim  hall  with  kind  and  welcome  tone 
No  entrance  bade — 't  was  as  a  dismal  dell 
Repulsed  her  with  a  strange,  foreboding  spell. 

v. 
She  onward  moves  ere  long;  stops  in  amaze; 

Harkens  as  if  she  saw  with  startled  ken ; 
Observes  the  pictured  walls,  great  clouds  ablaze 

With  Jove's  stern  darts  hurled  from  his  thund'rous  den; 
But  soon  she  drops  her  maiden  veil  of  fears, 
And  bears  a  courage  of  a  matron's  years. 

VI. 

Anon  she  treads  a  stairway,  thence  to  pass 

Into  a  hall  before.     Herein  salutes 
The  eye  a  bright  display  of  central  glass — 

On  ceiling  broad  a  dome.     Sol  mildly  shoots 
Enkindling  gleams  through  panes,  with  emblems  spread, 
That  show  what  might  to  vesper  orbs  is  wed. 

VII. 

Ceilings  of  cedar  wood  adorn  the  place 

(Contrived  with  skill  to  show  the  artist's  dye), 

Whereon  true  genius  has  depicted  grace 
In  figures  formed  Jove's  dreams  to  glorify. 

Floating  bubbles  are  borne  from  cherubs  fair, 

As  others  range  with  self-oblivious  air. 


THE  QUEEN  OF  DREAMLAND.  13 


Below  are  pendent  apples  o'er  a  stream 
Upon  a  tree  all  silver-wet  with  dew; 

And  from  bent  boughs  fall  to  the  current's  gleam, 
The  heaviest  the  cherubs  by  to  woo; 

These  see  the  fruitage  swimming  in  the  tide, 

And  vie  to  gather  up  the  best  espied. 

IX. 

She  marks  about  the  statue-figures  spread 
Upon  the  floor.     Anon  her  breath  is  slow ; 

She  feels  as  if  she  from  herself  has  fled 
And  soul-fit  mysteries  upon  her  flow  ; 

It  is  so  rare  to  gaze  and  be  unknown 

Among  such  shapes  endowed  with  subtile  tone. 

x. 

Ere  long  she  leaves  behind  the  spell-like  hall, 
And  gains  a  distant  aisle,  egress  to  make ; 

Her  silent  footsteps  move  beside  a  wall 

Massive  with  stones  too  firm  for  Time  to  shake; 

A  winding  passage  guides  toward  a  court, 

Where  fowls  tame-bred  and  mortal  forms  consort. 


A  tranquil  court  it  is  wherein  a  bird 

Might  lull  itself  to  sleep  at  warm  mid-day  ; 

Where  marble  brims  reflecting  baths  engird 
Under  cool  canopies ;  where  alcoves  gay 

Hold  forth  soft  seats  on  which  young  drowsy  Thought 

Can  range  in  Dreamland  with  old  romance  fraught. 


I4  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 


About  the  open  space  irregular 

Rise  roof-crowned  walls,  whose  shades  unite  with  shades; 
Nor  do  below  they  noontide  gleams  debar 

From  touching  marble  steps  to  long  arcades ; 
A  just  degree  of  light  and  shade  controls, 
And  with  mild  means  the  atmosphere  consoles. 


Above  is  seen  a  row  of  galleries, 

Where  curtains  white,  wind-blown,  exhibit  faces 
And  hands  embroidering;  deep  balconies, 

With  tiers  of  shelves  on  which  are  Grecian  vases, 
Whose  plant  o'er  plant  have  colors  fresh  and  gay, 
Like  pageantry  of  Fairyland's  display. 

XIV. 

The  turtle-dove  about  the  court  is  seen 

To  hover  here  and  there  with  wings  broadspread ; 
A  peacock  bright  expands  his  plumage  green, 

Admiration'to  gain  from  folks  ahead; 
And  'mong  all  those  he  meets  reclining  by 
No  scorn  upon  a  brow  he  can  descry. 

xv. 

Venus  three  doves  beholds.     They  near  her  oft 
Fly  with  capricious  yet  regardful  ways; 

As  prudent  bees  around  June's  bushes  soft 
Dally  before  they  settle  on  their  sprays, 

So  one  by  one  the  birds  steal  down  to  rest 

And  breathe  a  welcome  on  the  stranger-guest. 


THE  QUEEN  OF  DREAMLAND.  15 

XVI. 

The  folks  first  see  her  by  a  pillar's  shade; 

Murmurs  besiege  her  ear;  from  doorways  nigh 
Come  comrade-forms  with  those  from  some  areade  • 

About  her  gather  all ;  part  to  apply 
Numerous  queries,  handing  back  her  words 
To  outer  heads  whose  eagerness  engirds. 

XVII. 

She  not  reluctant  leads  them  to  inquire 

About  a  realm  afar,  with  civic  din 
Of  man  disturbed ;  about  a  monarch's  ire 

Whose  laws  unjust  stand  much  opposed.     To  win 
Their  sympathy,  she  meekly  then  alludes 
Unto  herself,  and  o'er  a  sorrow  broods. 


The  monarch  with  a  strange  and  mad  uproar 
Had  made  her  breast  of  late  to  dolor  prone ; 

Had  scowled  and  grudged  her  rights;  and  now  no  more 
She  cares  to  dwell  at  home  until  had  flown 

A  time  of  pilgrimage,  when  smoothly  laid 

Might  be  his  rage  with  reason's  sober  aid. 

XIX. 

Her  guileless  story  has  a  mellow  power 
To  place  deep  confidence  in  every  heart ; 

Each  excellence  of  mind  becomes  her  dower 
Viewed  through  the  glamor  of  befriending  art; 

And  all  her  hearers  to  warm  fancies  yield, 

That  hint  of  much  in  her  heart's  depth  concealed. 


1 6  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

XX. 

At  last  the  folks  disperse ;  with  ling'ring  throb 
They  muse;  and  as  slow-rolling  drops  of  dew 

Unite  (and  from  themselves  their  forms  do  rob) 
With  fellow-ones  upon  a  violet  blue, 

So  emotions  unite,  with  zeal  o'errun, 

And  swell  to  bounds  from  various  bosoms  won. 


Unto  meek  Venus  they  with  tongues  serene 
Due  homage  pay.     Anon  expressions  flow 

To  favor  her  with  prestige  of  a  queen, 
On  her  a  gentle  weight  of  glory  throw ; 

They  feel  she  is  a  ruler  to  maintain 

The  honors  of  a  future  golden  reign. 

XXII. 

Before  to  them  she  was  a  mere  surmise ; 

To  life  most  real  she  is  committed  now — 
Transfigured  all ! — a  being  claiming  ties 

With  ideal  worlds,  thus  gifted  to  endow 
A  multitude  of  souls  in  Day's  Dreamland, 
Busy  with  deeds,  with  inner  guidance  grand. 

XXIII. 

At  last  at  twilight  hour  courtiers  reveal 
To  her  their  purpose,  saying  that  awaits 

For  her  a  sceptered  right  to  rule  their  weal, 
Abating  from  themselves  superior  traits 

\Vith  urbane  art  in  order  to  make  less 

Seem  to  herself  her  own  unworthiness. 


THE  QUEEN  OF  DREAMLAND.  l^ 


A  bard  steps  forth,  his  visage  grave  and  old ; 

Long  locks  of  white  upon  his  shoulders  roll ; 
His  minstrel-hand  is  oft  inspired  to  hold 

The  harp  to  notes  concordant  with  the  soul  • 
His  voice  ascending  o'er  the  swaying  heads 
Softly  entreats  and  warm  impressions  spreads. 

xxv. 

Venus  confused  with  much  ado  demurs  ; 

Resorts  to  argument  to  help  her  cause  ; 
Unto  her  budding  youth  she  next  refers ; 

This  failing,  she  aloof  alone  withdraws  : 
Some  follow  her;  she  tries  with  words  to  foil; 
But  their  deep  love  she  doth  with  sense  entoil. 


They  urge  with  courteous  tact;  some  call  her  cold, 
Augment  their  accents  low  with  fertile  fears  ; 

Their  melancholy  shades  increase  two-fold ; 
Feelings  acute  express  themselves  in  tears; 

All  move  engirdled  by  a  magic  spell, 

On  whose  sweet  cause  they  fondly,  strangely  dwell. 


They  tell  her  of  a  prophet  who  had  told 

That  she  would  come  at  last  to  be  their  queen ; 

That  Truth  in  league  with  Beauty,  as  of  old, 
Was  moving  still  toward  a  future  scene, 

To  triumph  o'er  the  world's  debarring  years, 

Ties  to  divulge  'tween  this  and  higher  spheres. 


1 8  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

XXVIII. 

Venus  in  time,  with  motive  half  aware 
Of  self,  consents.     Assuming  honors  new 

With  chiding  doubt,  bemasks  a  pallor  rare 

The  roses  of  her  cheek.     She  trembles  through 

As  tongues  the  tidings  bear.     Now  won  the  cause, 

The  court  resounds  with  clamor  and  applause. 

XXIX. 

What  happiness  betrays  each  eager  face  ! 

Sweet  flutes  play  on !     Ye  instruments  more  gay, 
Breathe  all  your  harmony  about  the  place  ! 

Meek  Venus  now  retires  and  fades  away 
To  wait  to-morrow's  ceremonial  grand ; 
Therefore,  glad  tones,  your  utmost  skill  expand  ! 

XXX. 

To-morrow  comes.      In  dome-crowned  hall  appear 
A  noble  throng  beside  a  purple  throne  ; 

A  semi-circle  vast  of  people  near ; 

Behind  them  maidens  rare,  all  sweetly  known 

(As  blushes  on  their  cheeks  most  softly  charm) 

To  youths  hard  by,  with  badges  on  each  arm. 

XXXI. 

Some  boys  confront  Venus  upon  the  throne  ; 

Each  holds  a  silver  harp  of  fervent  strings, 
Revealing  limitations  of  its  tone, 

That  bears  itself  abroad  on  waning  wings  ; 
And — sweet  succession  ! — they  a  hymn  well  chant, 
Those  minstrel-boys  in  robes,  so  jubilant ! 


THE  QUEEN  OE  DREAMLAND.  19 

XXXII. 
A  score  of  matrons  come  in  vestments  white 

Adown  an  aisle  with  grace ;  each  duly  shows 
A  homage  fit  the  ceremonial  rite ; 

They  onward  move  to  honored  seats  in  rows ; 
Ascends  forthwith  the  hymn's  assuaging  chant 
From  minstrel-boys  in  robes,  so  jubilant! 

XXXIII. 

Come  next  a  score  of  elder-men,  arrayed 
In  cloaks  of  black ;  a  leader  bears  a  wreath 

(That  soon  before  the  throne  is  lowly  laid) ; 
They  turn  to  seats  the  glowing  dome  beneath; 

Ascends  forthwith  the  hymn's  assuaging  chant 

From  minstrel-boys  in  robes,  so  jubilant! 


Some  gleaner-girls  in  singing  then  proceed 
To  glorify  their  task  with  duteous  voice, 

Addressed  to  pow'rs  above  their  aid  to  plead, 
As  all  their  shining  faces  well  rejoice  ; 

Full  gratified  they  rest  like  sea-shell  low, 

Who's  found  its  pearl  within  dark  surges'  flow. 

XXXV. 

Venus  they  then  approach;  upon  her  head 
A  simple  laurel-crown  bestows  a  hand, 

And  throngs  on  throngs  a  speechless  blessing  shed 
Upon  the  maiden  Queen  of  Day's  Dreamland, 

Pleading  that  she  with  them  may  long  abide 

To  rule  their  weal  until   Death's  eventide. 


20  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 


Then  vows  by  mortal  breasts  ascending  go; 

Adopt  they  aims  for  their  alloted  days 
Befit  true  hearts,  subjecting  flesh  full  low 

To  serve  a  spirit  high,  that  Truth  may  raise 
A  guardian  o'er  each  golden  life  that. far 
Its  worth  may  shine  a  clear,  enduring  star. 

XXXVII. 

Ere  long  a  show'r  falls  on  the  outer  court, 
But  passes  soon  away  ;  and  mildly  then 

A  rainbow  gay  with  omen  comes  athwart, 
Copious  seasons  foretelling  to  the  ken  ; 

And  all  to  future  years  their  faces  turn, 

An  epoch  rich  and  Beauty  there  discern. 


THE    HERO    AND    THE    WIFE. 

TITE  was  a  Roman  of  superior  form. 

The  moment  now  was  come  wherein  to  choose 
This  way  or  that.      Distrust  prevailed  in  him, 
Disturbing  homebred  sentiments,  like  hawks 
In  orchard  causing  happy  birds  of  song 
Anxiety.      Habit  restrained  him,  too, 
In  such  a  course  as  now  therefrom  to  break 
Was  hard.     Yet  with  an  introspective  eye 
He  saw  his  tone  of  self  had  epic  warmth, 
By  which  it  would  inspire  heroic  zeal 
To  be  a  conqueror  with  trophied  trains. 


THE  HERO  AND    THE   WIFE.  21 

The  discordance  that  was  within  himself 

(As  to  and  fro  he  swayed  among  armed  men) 

Could  not  endure  annoyance  from  the  hums 

About,  when- it  would  have  a  tranquil  hour 

Or  so  to  calm  and  veer  from  doubt  to  hope. 

But  as  the  sun  forth  shone  'tween  clouds,  from  it 

Influence  came,  instilling  him  with  aught 

Obscure,  profound,  transferring  by  degrees 

Him  from  that  which  he  scorned  to  that  which  he 

Aspired,  as  through  himself  emotions  moved 

Assured.      Referring  to  ideals  of  life, 

Long  cherished  by  his  memory,  he  found 

An  essence  in  them  all  sustaining  them 

With  beauty  and  its  pow'r  and  mystery 

Too  deep  for  man . 

Anon  he  spoke  :     "The  gods 
Demand  my  services,  my  country  asks 
For  them  upon  the  tented  field,  and  comes 
An  inspiration  moving  me  to  go 
Rewards  to  have.      For  earthly  dignity 
And  crown  celestial  yearn  I  tacitly ; 
If  victor  in  the  battle's  cause,  the  first 
Is  mine,  whilst  living  to  enjoy  ;  if  slain, 
The  gods  approving,  faith  doth  prophesy 
The  second's  mine.      Here  linger  I  and  pine 
And  older  grow,  the  days  fulfilling  not 
What  me  should  gratify.     Fortune  hath  led 
Unto  satiety  in  zigzag  paths ; 
She  made  no  sacrifice  to  Happiness  ; 


22  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

To  follow  her  is  sacrilege.      My  joys — 

Domestic  joys — my  wife  and  I,  espoused 

Like  April  odors  fresh  to  April  hues — 

Are  faded  now.     They  blossomed  forth,  then  bore 

Sweet  fruit,   which,   tasting  o'er  and   o'er,   soon   cloyed 

Desire,  yet  left  me  hungry  for  the  meat 

That  does  not  come.      'Tis  starving  nature  roused 

That  would  its  stay  go  seek.      Nuptial  ties 

Appear  entangling  by  the  charm  that  comes 

From  action  in  a  freer  life  abroad. 

In  changes  we  attain  another  self. 

With  will  consenting,  then  impelling  us, 

'Tis  we  subserve  the  ends  of  destiny, 

In  concord  with  the  mighty  ones  of  yore, 

Who  strove  along,  conquering  with  an  aim 

That  found  a -life  through  war  which  few  lives  know, 

And  fame  historic  afterwards." 

Anon 

Calling  for  what  the  leader  of  a  host 
Would  need,  he  strode  among  assembling  men, 
Breast-plated,  ready  warfare  soon  to  face. 
They  felt  that  he,  their  haughty  chief,  kept  step 
With  a  pulsation  true  of  what  was  brave, 
Stern  in  an  experience  with  the  world. 

His  wife  came  slowly  forth;  surveying  him 
She  stood,  impressing  not  as  she  was  wont 
Writh  beauty  and  emotions  that  disarm 
Men  of  their  wills ;  but  as  a  woman  sees 


THE  HERO  AND    THE   WIFE.  23 

A  woman  with  an  eye  that  dreads  and  hates, 
Ashamed  to  own  that  it  not  trusts  and  loves — 
So  he  saw  her.     Embarrassment  o'ercame 
Her  by  degrees,  in  her  arousing  doubts 
Foreboding  vaguely,  then  inspiring  her 
With  energy  to  chide  her  lord,  sullen, 
Acting  as  if  a  stranger  to  herself. 

She  was  to  him  the  being  of  his  choice, 
Beside  her  proud;  away,  his  sweeter  part 
Much  missed.      Chosen  ardently,  despite 
Himself,  nature  propelling  him  to  woo 
With  modesty,  he  now  first  since  their  day 
Of  wedlock  vows,  withstood  her  otherwise. 
She  plead  to  him  with  eloquence.      He  heard 
As  if  to  yield  to  what  she  asked,  in  brief 
Disdain  of  what  he  felt  before,  but  made 
No  answer.      She  then  tried  to  win  with  gifts 
The  heart  pays  to  the  mind;  but  soon  her  voice 
Prattled,  not  reasoned,  and  aroused  his  mien 
Of  cynicism,  beholding  her  so  void 
As  not  to  know  him  strong,  but  as  him  weak- 
Shaming  his  lofty  self  with  truthfulness. 
Yet  he  to  her  was  strength.      A  purpose  frail 
In  her,  a  purpose  resolute  in  him, 
Were  two,  supporting  and  supported,  yet 
Were  one  in  common  sympathy  that  worked 
In  married  harmony.      For  a  brief  while 
She  felt  the  tie  was  strained  and  he  the  cause, 


24  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

And  was  to  snap  asunder  soon.     Then  she 

With  other  words  with  pensive  thoughts  thus  spoke  : 

"Oh,  list,  my  lord!    remain  with  me.      What's  life 
With  thee  away?     Let  others  to  the  war, 
Less  worthy  living,  dying  worthy  more ; 
Thy  worth  maintains  itself  where'er  it  is ; 
But  theirs  not  so.    _Departing  hence,  thy  gain 
Is  naught,  thy  loss  domestic  bliss.     Then   cease 
Thy  warfare  with  thyself;  it  makes  me  feel 
Thy  peril  with  a  woman's  fear,  not  man's, 
And  be  a  husband  to  thy  wife  again." 

He  looked  askance.     Silence  prevailed,  and  ere 
Its  power   waned,  he  moved  in  coldness  wrapped, 
Seeing  with  mental  eye  some  inner  thing 
That  him  absorbed.     The  moments  passing  by 
Kept  her  in  trembles  of  suspense;    each  was 
So  intermingled  with  mistrust  it  seemed 
An  hour  of  punishment.      At  last  he  turned 
And  said:     "Why  waitest  thou?" 

She  bowed  and  wept, 
Such  visions  playing  in  her  mind  as  fear 
Provokes  in  frailty.      Yet  it  was  a  grief 
Tempered;    controlling  moods  unsettled  much, 
It  made  her  prudent  in  her  selfishness — 
Her  source  of   tears.      Looking  at  him  ere  long, 
The  semblance  of  her  husband  in  a  form 
Made  bold  appeared,  who  still  retaining  her 


THE  HERO  AND  THE  WIFE.          25 

As  his  heart's  paragon — none  else  for  him— 
A  nobler  self  revealed,   as  slowly  came 
A  spell  that  to  her  intuition  showed 
The  solemn  tenor  of   true  thought  in  life 
Inspiring  him.     A  conscious  rapture  spread 
Throughout  her  pulse  in  thinking  such  a  one 
Was  closest  to  her  bosom's  rare  desire, 
And  changed  her  nature  higher  likes  to  know. 

Turning  he  said:    "  Thou  smilest  through  thy  tears! 
But  late  thy  head  did  hang,  lack-lustre  was 
Thy  glance,  and  diffident  thy  manners  were ! 
Yet  presto! — a  change! — thy  woe  wept  tears, 
But  now  thy  joy  weeps  tears.      Perplexes  me 
Thy  fickleness  ;    it  breaks  the  link  that  should 
Unite  my  comprehension  to  thyself. — 
But  let  such  matters  go !     To  comfort  thee, 
My  wife,  the  hero's  motive  ill  consorts 
With  what  the  husband's  tenderness  would  say ; 
Therefore,   me  understand,   not  by  that  which 
I  seem,   but  by  that  which   I  am,   no  words 
Asking  for  than  from  me  now  comes." 

Futile 

His  speech;  for  she  anticipating  him, 
Did  feel  what  he  wished  her  to  feel — through  love, 
A  knowledge  of  himself  with  lofty  pow'rs 
Tn  visible  relief.     His  traits  more  coarse, 
O'ertopping  hers,  knew  not  the  part  she  was 


26  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Unto  his  flesh,   her  flesh,    in  that  her  mind 
Was  subtile,   his  was  dull. 

"Lately  1  would 

Have  said,   Oh,   hard  thee  to  relinquish  !     Now, 
Thy  purpose  moves  in  me,   and  makes  me  say 
Thy  choice  of  duty  reason  cheers,   and  makes 
Me  apt  in  sacrifice  thy  absence  hence 
To  bear  with  a  stout  will,"  thus  uttered  she, 
Deriving  added  strength  from  her  good  lord. 

Working  upon  his  feelings  with  a  fresh 
Congenial  mien — with  woman's  artless  skill 
Expressing  estimation   for  himself, 
And  love  behind  it — stood  they  face  to  face, 
The  hero  still  supreme,   yet  softened  some, 
Slowly  descending  to  the  husband's  plane, 
Her  patience  helping  him.     Now  free  to  use 
Her  will,  his  nature  through  with  hers  refined 
Instilled  she  with  sagacious  joyousness, 
Such  as  to  feel  a  philosopher  turns. 

He  pressed  her  to  his  lips,   then    backwards  stood, 
Observing  her  as  if  with  reverence, 
Unapt  to  vent  what  he  would  say.      At  last 
He  spoke :     ' '  Before  we  part,   I  to  the  Avar, 
Thou  to  the  loom,   to  wishes  list  in  thy 
Behalf:     I   would  have  thee  forever  live 
In  simple  happiness,   to  household  things 


THE  HERO  AND   THE    WIFE.  27 

Attending,  leaving  duties  that  were  mine 
To  manly  hands ;    I  would  have  thee,  if  low 
I  fall,   remember  me  more  in  thy  heart 
Than  in  thy  mind;    I  would  have  ever  fresh 
Thy  dews  of  life  in  glory  of  the  dawn; 
Thy  flow'rs  of  hope  to  grow  with  hues  perfumed, 
Thee  bidding  them ;    the  fruit  of  our  two  loves 
To  bear  the  seed  with  aught,  as  ages  pass, 
Endowing  fame  on  the  parental  stock, 
Transplanted  then  to  regions  god-ruled  o'er." 

He  ceased,  and  not  a  murmur  rose  from  throa's 
Of   men  hard  by,  his  followers — silence 
Impressive  reigned  an  interval,  that  he 
Alone  broke  with  a  sigh.     Then  he,  erect, 
With  chieftan  airs,  assumed  command  of  them, 
Now  forming  into  ranks,  and  off  all  moved, 
They  seeming  cold  as  statues,  hills  anon 
Obscuring  them,  and  distance  hushing  sounds 
Of  trumpet  more  and  more  until  they  died. 

Meanwhile  the  wife  gazed  into  prospects  far 
Whither  he  had  gone,  feeling  many  things 
That  woman  only  knows.      Yet  with  a  heart 
Encouraged  she  consoled  a  matron's  mind, 
Thinking  no  more  of  him  as  one  far  gone, 
Mayhaps  a  captive  chained — a  galley  slave— 
A  corse  and  stretched  among  the  chariots'  wreck;  — 
But  as  a  patriot  faithful  to  a  cause; 
A  conqueror  severe,  yet  merciful ; 


28  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

A  hero  coming  from  ovations  fresh, 
Loaded  with  spoils  and  emblems  gained,  the  hum 
Of  heralds  him  before  to  tell  the  tale- 
Fulfillment  honored  had  endeavors  brave. 

'Twas  thus  to  war  he  went  on  Roman  soil, 
And  striving  won,  not  by  denying  self 
Examples  to  the  mind  of  what  was  great, 
But  by  a  timely  use  of  them. 


HORACE. 


TTORACE,  thou  scribe  of  yore  ! — what  wisdom  taught 

Thy  methods  slow  ! — how  well  at  times  indeed 
Couldst  thou  passions  console  unduly  fraught 

With  yearnings  false  for  fickle  Fortune's  meed ! 
Although  of  pagan  creed,  yet  was  thy  mind 
Accordant  with  the  truth  as  then  defined. 

n. 

Among  thy  Sabine  fields,  where  beat  Time's  heart 

As  even  now,  imparting  to  the  frame 
Of  things  a  warmth  occult  which  made  them  start 

Into  outlines  that  reached  ere  blight  their  aim, 
How  breathed  thy  harp  those  sounds  that  not  as  yet 
Have  reached  an  end  to  pay  a  mortal  debt ! 


HORACE.  29 


III. 
They  breathe  content,  attended  by  a  charm, 

Impressing  bosoms  with  a  happy  thrill. 
No  sudden  woes  within  can  do  much  harm 

If  minds  forlorn  yield  to  thy  Orphean  skill. 
What  was  to  thee  thy  life's  most  humble  share  ?— 
What  was  to  thee  the  daunt  in  Fortune's  air? 

IV. 

Exemplar  thou,  O  schoolman  in  the  dark  ! 

Thy  praise  of  Poverty,  her  wholesome  store, 
Was  worthy  of  thy  philosophic  ark, 

That  on  a  flood  of  years  a  species  bore 
To  live — consigning  to  an  English  soil 
The  true  origins  of  thy  midnight  oil. 

v. 
Now  these  origins,  much  increased,  are  here, 

\Vhere  English  ships  once  fixed  their  standards  bold, 
But  not  'tis  feared  at  times  with  atmosphere 

Most  proper  for  their  vogue  ;   they,  deemed  too  old, 
Are  left  to  lie  about  the  bookworm's  room, 
Fit  subjects  for  the  negligence  of  gloom. 

VI. 

A  volume  worn,  transcribed  by  scribe  adept, 
The  eye  observed  one  day  within  a  chest, 

That  a  sea-captain  had  in  storage  kept 

For  years  and  years  as  he  on  ocean's  breast 

Had  voyaged  to  and  fro ;  perhaps  at  times 

To  pause  and  read  the  book's  engaging  rhymes. 


30  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

VII. 
Page  after  page  was  turned — to  read  of  eagerness 

Peculiar  to  thy  youth ;  how  thee  imbued 
With  tact  thy  sire  ;  of  thy  apparent  meagreness 

Of  will  when  facing  Maecenas ;  how  sued 
Thy  city  friends  for  news;  of  that  bore  slow, 
At  last  from  whom  thee  rescued  Apollo. 

VIII. 

A  rural  picture  soon  with  faithful  hue 
Itself  revealed  ;  it  caused  in  turn  desire 

To  mingle  with  the  represented  view, 
Evoking  well  attention  to  admire, 

An  oaken  woods  upon  old  Roman  ground, 

Where  depths  beguiled  to  depths  in  silence  bound. 

IX. 

Ere  long  the  pages  spread  another  scene, 
Holding  the  mind  bewitched  a  happy  date. 

A  Summer  hour  moved  by ;  it  was  serene 
Like  river  that  no  bowlders  agitate. 

A-something  in  the  mood  a  vision  bore— 

The  Shadow-Land  of  Calm  was  near  before. 

x. 

Absorbed,  the  thoughts  were  roused  at  last  to  see 
A  place  where  man  is  classic  heritor 

Of  ideas  pure — a  place  wherein  to  be 
A  spirit  comes  a  joy  to  minister  : 

A  royal  road,  full  easy  to  pursue, 

Led  forth  a  world  within  a  world  to  view. 


HORACE.  31 


About  its  entrance  paused  a  guardian-hand, 
Aright  to  urge ;  its  nearer  presence  filled 

With  strange  surmises  vain  a  period  spanned 
With  mystery;  it  mildly  then  instilled 

A  honey-comfort  for  the  soul's  own  hive, 

In  barren  months  to  keep  its  strength  alive. 

XII. 

Shade  shaded  shade.     It  was  a  land  of  peace. 

Roamed  scores  therein  turned  from  the  paltry  aims 
Of  markets  of  the  world,  wherein  increase 

The  restless  throngs  as  Mammon  bold  declaims— 
A  land  of  laurels  partly  to  seclude 
Great  potent  minds  who  dream  in  solitude. 

XIII. 

Light  chastened  light.     A  scene  irregular 

About  was.      Mingled  comrades,  low  and  high, 

In  widespread  groves;  talked  they  in  groups  afar 
In  sympathy  conducing  to  affy. 

A  sage  imparted  wisdom  to  a  class 

That  circling  sat  upon  the  matted  grass. 

XIV. 

Socrates  was  a  god  above  the  rest. 

The  soul's  the  mind's  mind  he  foretells  to  all. 
They  with  mild  queries  by  and  by  request 

That  he  explain  man's  dim  eventual  Fall — 
What  scenes  succeed  its  frosty  dearth  of  days ; 
They  dread  some  doom,  but  he  this  dread  allays. 


32  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

xv. 

Plato,   with  parchment  in  his  hand,  stood  by; 

His  brow  sagacious  turned  to  thoughts  akin 
To  excellence  ;   a-something  in  his  eye 

An  inner  vigor  marked ;  he  seemed  a  twin 
Of  marble  statue  dowered  with  a  grace 
That  shows  a  spirit  depth  upon  its  face. 


Goethe  thus  spoke  in  brief:    Man  often  yearns 
For  peace  that  comes  from  dwelling  in  a  state 

Of  sweetness,   truth  and  beauty ;  he  discerns, 

Through  worldly  mists,  the  means  that  hold  this  fate;- 

A  growth  within  attains,  but  it  defied 

Defies  the  means  that  make  life's  outlook  wide. 

XVII. 

Richter  serene,  reclining  in  a  shade, 

Spoke  fitting  words  unto  a  humble  few; 
His  melancholy  voice  gave  earnest  aid, 

Adjuring  one,   whose  youth  attention  drew, 
Not  to  dethrone  his  strength — to  be  in  age 
A  slave,   his  passions  master  strife  to  wage. 

XVIII. 

Others  were  there  whose  deep  philosophy 
Is  found  in  prose,  who  lowly  labored  yet 

To  raise  responsive  manhood  up  to  see 

A  breadth  the  globe  gives  not.     There,  too,  were  met 

Those  bards  whose  virtues  rare  and  fife-like  grace 

Still  soothe  the  captains  of  our  marching  race. 


HORACE,  33 

XIX. 

Virgil  went  slowly  down  a  silent  way, 

Now  in  a  shade,  now  in  a  flood  of  gleam, 

As  if  not  prone  his  presence  to  betray, 

Perhaps  beguiled  by  some  part  spectral  dream: 

Bent  on  seclusion,  he  retired  anon 

To  write  his  tablet  on  of  Acheron. 

xx. 

Dante  sedate,  on  rough  and  devious  route, 
Moved  on  behind  as  if  he  upward  saw 

A  vision  in  the  air.      His  lips  gave  out 

Vague  mutterings.      He  seemed  a  priest  to  awe; 

But  there  was  that  within  his  solemn  mien 

That  courted  sympathy  from  bosoms  keen. 


Shakespeare,  to  whom  a  poet-throng  deferred, 
Stood  by;  his  fellowship  kind  favors  gave 

With  triple  pow'r  of  look,  of  grasp,  of  word — 
In  gifts  a  king,  in  modesty  a  slave. 

His  central  presence  soon  strolled  off  ahead, 

Remained  impressions  courting  all  instead. 

XXII. 

Enrobed  in  cloth  of  Puritanic  hue, 

Milton  was  gravest  'mong  the  grave ;  before 

Him  Wordsworth  stood,  exchanging  view  for  view, 
As  if  to  catch  the  fullness  of  his  lore ; 

This,  rich  in  eloquence,  combined  to  cause 

His  eager  hearer  on  and  on  to  pause. 


34 


CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

XXIII. 
Others  presided  'on  a  knoll,  a  heap 

With  roses  strewed,  a  bank  where  melody 
Of  brooklets  babbled  by,  or  in  the  deep 

Of  distance — all  endowed  most  righteously 
To  give  repose  and  growth  and  moral  store 
Within  the  Shadow-Land  of  Calm  before. 


THE  CHOICE  OF  ALCIDES.* 

A  LCIDES,  once  of  Greece,  to  manhood  grown, 

Still  felt  arouse  the  passions  of  his  youth.. 
Hence  he  beheld  first  painted  life  with  hues 
Of  brilliance  false ;  then  sober  life  with  hues 
Of  reality— or  pleasure's  road  before, 
With  virtue's  nigh.     Which  to  pursue  a  doubt 
Left  him  no  ready  choice;  and  thus  perplexed 
He  moved  as  one  half-lost,  solace  to  seek 
Among  shade-trees  deep  in  a  silent  vale. 
As  thought  suggested  thought,  his  mind  went  through 
A  fruitless  course.      At  last  fatigued  he  gaxed 
About  the  area  of  the  vale.     It  was 
A  day  when  Nature  fills  the  atmosphere 
With  odors  of  her  blooms  enclosed  in  depths, 

#The  suggestion  for  this  poem  was  found  in  a  translation  from  Prodi- 
cus,  a  Greek  poet,  by  Robert  Lowth,  an  English  author  of  distinction  of 
the  i8th  Century. 


THE  CHOICE  OF  ALCIDES.  35 

Making  the  footsteps  for  their  beauty  search. 

On  such  a  quest,  emotions  to  distract 

From  what  they  bore  to  what  they  wished  to  bear, 

He  saw  approaching  near  two  figures  robed 

In  vestures  feminine.      The  one  had  grace 

With  gravity ;  the  other  comeliness 

With  merriment.     With  stately  mien  the  first 

Impressed  as  having  that  within  herself 

Better  than  that  of  show  without ;  that  moved 

Less  admiration  than  respect,  and  more 

Content  than  fancy's  fervency.      The  next, 

Not  modest  like  her  mate,  came  forth  with  step 

Affected  by  the  movements  of  her  thoughts, 

Unguided  by  true  woman's  tact,  or  depth 

Of  will,  or  finer  feelings  proud  of  what 

They  do  aright,  ashamed  of  what  they  do 

Amiss.     As  if  the  other  to  outdo 

In  forwardness,  she  Alcides  addressed. 


"Alcides,"  uttered  she,   "thy  dolesomeness 
Cast  off  as  thou  wouldst  a  cloak  of  black 
Ill-fitting  thee,  and  come  with  me  to  lead. 
What's  foreign  to  thy  nature,  Oh,  dislike! 
Know  pleasure  is  emotion's  realm;  a  king 
Can  have  no  more.     Joy  in  the  senses  dwells; 
Encourage  it  to  roam  at  liberty 
In  paradise  of  youth's  desire — with  youth 
Brimful  of  wine,  mid  festal  company, 
And  shouts  and  laughter  and  Apollo's  strains. 
Doubt  comes  from  thought,  perturbation  from 


36  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Cavil  attends  him  who  endeavors  well  ; 
Merit  is  honored  most  when  having  least; 
Climb  not  that  road  of  thorns  and  stones — renown  : 
A  life  in  warfare  waged  hath  wounds  and  death. 
Followest  thou  that  way  or  this  ? — this  way, 
My  way,  proceeding  to  tranquility, 
Amid  profusion  proffering  every  sweet  ? 
There  fragrance  woos  as  incense  of  the  dawn  ; 
There  turtle-doves  will  tamely  visit  thee ; 
There  fruit  in  falling  kiss  the  orchard  flow'rs. 
Thy  bed  will  be  adorned  with  silks  fresh-weaved , 
Thy  feasts  will  prove  thee  loved  by  maidens  kind. 
Secluded  from  the  world  that  deeds  do  work 
Contrary  to  their  maker's  will,  the  gods 
Will  bless  suchwise  as  feeling  once,  all  else 
Will  seem  to  have  a  void.     Followest  thou 
My  way?     Alcides,  come!" 

An  answer  made 

His  looks — he  was  subdued,  and  was  as  one 
Confined  within  the  circle  of  a  charm. 
She  would  have  spoken  more,  as  if  to  thwart 
Her  who  was  closely  by  composed  in  mien. 
Standing  apart  since  her  arrival  near 
Within  the  shadow  of  an  oak,  she  now 
Stepped  forth,  the  sun  attending  her  with  glimpse 
By  glimpse.      A  dignity  was  hers,  increased 
In  pow'r  by  manners  mild  subserving  it. 
With  artless  aim  becalmed  she  him  perplexed, 
Who  would  have  turned  from  her  in  bashfulness. 


THE  CHOICE  OF  A  I.  C WES.  37 

She  touched  him  on  the  arm,  next  held  his  hand, 
Causing  attention  fixed  from  him  to  her 
Due  earnestness  to  pay. 

"List,  Alcides,"  she  said, 

"To  that  which  language  has  not  means  to  show; 
So  subtile  is  its  truthfulness,  it  fills 
And  animates  that  which  is  vanity 
With  qualities  its  opposite — to  thought 
Gives  tone,  to  fancy  will,  to  purpose  sense; 
It  rouses  aims  related  to  the  soul, 
Reaching  their  fulfillment  through  weakness  shunned. 
Those  of  the  flesh,  not  venial  to  the  gods, 
Are  counter  to  true  welfare,  giving  gifts, 
Then  taking  forfeits.     Know  thou  then  there  are 
Powers  of  manly  virtues  that  the  gods 
Confer  on  him  who  bids  necessity, 
With  worth,  approach  them  to  receive.     Zeus 
Beholds  thy  state,  and  would  have  thee  among 
The  favored.      But  disdain  not  means  to  ends  : 
Men  foster  confidence  by  able  deeds. 
Thy  body's  health  demands  strength's  excellence; 
Thy  parent's  traits  in  thee  development ; 
Thy  friends  need  counsels  freely  from  thy  lips ; 
The  poor  thy  gold,  the  wronged  thy  arm  to  aid ; 
Thy  country  asks  allegiance  to  her  cause ; 
Thy  race  in  battle  use  heroic  feats ; 
The  gods  devotion  and  simplicity  ; — 
These  means  to  ends  remotely  win  the  prize — 
'Tis  proof  secures  the  choice  of  sacred  place. 


38  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Then  bid  the  tempter  who  would  thee  mislead 
A  vaunt— her  who  would  lead  thee  to  a  course 
Contrary  to  existence's  wiser  goal." 

Alcides  stepped  aback  from  her  a  pace 
Or  so ;  as  came  conversion  unto  him 
With  sweet  enlightenment,  he  bowed  to  her 
As  slave  to  mistress. 

Saw  the  tempter  this 
Askance.     Attempting  to  conceal  chagrin 
In  winning  features,  she  drew  near  and  paused. 
Her  sway  o'er  him  then  trying  to  redeem 
(For  knew  she  youth  is  caught  by  captious  strains). 
She  spoke  again : 

"Thou  hast  those  hopes  aroused, 
Alcides,  which  forsake,  like  birds,  fruit-trees 
On  which  they  feed ;  for  when  a  danger  comes 
They  fly,  and  would  much  rather  starving  die 
Than  living  live  in  fear.      Experience  shows 
That  failure  hath  a  score,  success  hath  one ; 
This  one,  perhaps,  for  failure's  number  fit, 
Yet  thrives,  but  in  his  thriving  hath  the  voice 
Of  envy  sounding  in  his  ears.     Then  know 
Thy  hazard  in  assuming  what  may  lead 
Not  to  the  front,  but  to  the  rear.     'T  is  well 
Before  ascending  to  reflect  that  height 
In  pow'r,  in  goodness,  in  renown,  is  depth 
Of  shame  and  gloom  to  him  who  falls.     Observe 


THE  CHOICE  OF  A  LCI  DBS.  39 

With  toil  and  trouble  men  purchase  bright  days, 

Thinking  them  diamonds  ;  but,  alack  !   they  fade 

Like  dewdrops.     Then  with  ease,  enjoyment's  arts 

And  love  awaiting  thee,  why  tread  the  path 

Not  suited  to  thy  youth,  its  hopefulness, 

Its  eagerness,  its  ecstacies  ?     For  know 

Thy  nature  is  of  too  refined  a  mould 

To  change  itself  by  leaving  joys  behind 

And  meeting  woes  before.     Then  come  with  me, 

Alcides  ! — Hark! — 'tis  music's  instruments 

Lulling  the  air  afar.     Let's  thither  go. 

Come !  come ! — be  generous  to  thyself,   and  come 

To  blissfulness." 

She  paused.     With  finger  fair 
And  glitt'ring  with  a  ring  she  pointed  out 
Her  way,  then  stood  queen-wise,  an  actress  through 
And  through.      Alcides  turned  aloof,   and  moved 
Athwart  the  grass,   avoiding  her  with  looks 
As  if  she  absent  were.     His  reason  saw 
Her  now;  his  folly  when  she  came  at  first. 
A  false  tie  to  the  real  her  actions  held, 
Forbidding  what  her  words  desired  of  him, 
And  causing  doubt  to  lessen  confidence. 

Anon   the  one  of  modesty  who  had 
Abashed  retired,  came  forth,  appearing  now 
As  if  she  felt  her  cause  was  gained  with  aid 
Of  aught  diviner  than  herself.      'Twas  thus 
She  spoke: —      "Alcides,  thy  perception  is 


40  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

To  thee  a  monitor  that  knows  the  tongue 
Of  evil.      Praise  to  it!     Then  cherish  it 
Over  thy  parts  immortal  to  control, 
And  to  instil  a  sympathy  for  what 
Makes  mortals  brave  and  great ;  for  fare  thou  must 
Like  a  hero  of  the  antecedent  times, 
Bearing  hardships  before  the  guerdon  came 
Unto  the  palm,   the  bay  unto  the  brow. 
Life  seeks  its  law;  it  otherwise  is  vain. 
Selfishness  drinks  joy's  wine   until  it  cloys, 
Causing  a  melancholy  to   succeed, 
That  to  relieve  itself  must  sport  amiss. 
To  find,  a  brief  while  on,    delusion's  charms 
Exhausting  are.     Then  learn,  the  serious  brow, 
The  temp'rate  want,  the  nourished  truth  on  truth, 
The  feeling  warmed  and  beautified  by  hope, 
The  trait  on  trait  endowing  patient  strength, 
The  attributes  that  quiet  triumph  know, 
The  sense  combining   all  in  character — 
Its  own  example  of  compacted  worth- 
Rejoicings  have  peculiar  to  themselves, 
Deep,  deep,  within  the  province  of  the  soul. 
Furthermore,  what  thou  art  may  be  the  root 
To  show  a  growth  which  haply  may  produce 
The  fruit,  celestial   in  its  taste,  relished 
By  gods  the  most.     Then  take  the  path  thy  mind 
Foretells  befitting  is;  directing  thee 
'Twill  be  conjunctive  to  thy  own  repose 
(When  to  pale  ashes  turns  thy  form)   within 
The  regions  of  the  blessed." 


THE  CHOICE  OF  ALCIDES.  41 

Thus  ended  she — 

A  goddess  from  the  skies.      As  such  revealed, 
She  wielded  double  potency  that  stirred 
Bowed  Alcides.      He  breathed  as  one  who  had 
A  second  nature  gained,  inspiring  more 
Than  that  the  first,   prophetic  of  a  meed 
Awaiting  him  in  years  to  be. 

He  said: 

"  Thou  art  unto  my  thinking  part  that  which 
My  speaking  part  can  not  expression  find, 
O  goddess!  to  make   known.     A  something  near 
To  gratitude,  but  which  hath  more  than  it 
Of  love  and  faith,  a.  strange  possession  has, 
Making  me  sadly  glad.      But  let  in  time 
My  actions  be  on  path  that  thou  hast  shown 
What  will  thy  satisfaction  pay  as  meet 
From  me  to  thee,  and  be,  approved  by  thee, 
To  me  a  consolation  and  a  guide." 

Thus  long  ago  he  spoke  to  her,  and  was 
From  youthhood  turned  aright.     Unfolding  forth 
The  oaken  quality  of  heroic  strength, 
He  dropped  upon  the  earth  of  human  growth 
The  seeds  of  greatness.      Hence  when  destiny 
Its  final  shadow  o'er  his  figure  drew, 
Mankind  his  loss  perceived,  and  evermore 
Him  knew  as  Hercules  the  mighty  one 
In  sphere  devoted  to  the  gods,  himself 
Empowered,  co-ruling  upon  a  throne. 


42  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 


THE  CITY   IN  RUINS. 

C\?   yore  a  city  by  Time's  river  stood. 

Holding  commerce  with  silent,  distant  worlds, 
Rich  argosies  came  stealing  from  the  gloom 
As  if  from  the  Unknown,  and  bore  such  fruits 
As  mortals  tasting  once,  love  more  than  well 
With  sober  hunger's  yearning.     There  they  dwelt — 
A  people  favored  by  a  righteousness; 
By  qualities  of  mind  not  of  a  race, 
But  of  mankind  more  large,  commensurate 
With  those  of  fabled  deities ;  by  types 
Of  beauty,  all  unconscious  of  their  charm, 
With  virtue's  spirit  e'er  sustaining  them  ; 
By  manly  tone  deep  in  affinity 
With  wisdom's  valor,  happy  in  the  skill 
Of  choosing  hopes  that  met  ambition's  aim 
With  sweet  reality. 

But  to  a  close 

An  era  came,  like  Day  that  sees  the  sun 
Go  down,  and  is  in  gloom.      A  heavy  cloud 
Above  the  city  hung,  and  pensive  was 
The  brow  where  joy  had  been,  as  oracles 
A  grievous  time  foretold.      Life's  modes  had  changed. 
Succeeding  on  the  heels  of  vanity, 
Freedom's  discord  licensed  oppression's  ills. 
Some  warning  voices  rose  and  spoke  of  things 
As  once  they  were,  and  to  the  present  turned 
With  scornful  fingers.     But,  alack  !  men's  ears 


CHE  CITY  IN  RUINS.  43 

Were  deaf,  or  whene'er  otherwise  not  prone 

So  to  adapt  their  acts  unto  the  means 

That  would  reform  their  plight.      Anon  there  came 

One  who  did  mutter  words  from  depths  of  that 

Strange  fervency  which  works  within  the  breast 

Of  him  who  has  just  found  fresh  inner  might 

Accruing  to  the  virtue  of  himself. 

A  sharpness  of  mild  sense  was  his  to  cope 

With  life's  sure  obstacles,  o'ercoming  much 

With  kindly  effort  when  his  will  arose 

And  bade  him  courage  use.     Often  he  stood 

Above  a  crowd,  as  separate  from  it 

As  Nestor  from  a  soldier-throng,  resolved 

And  still  resolving  on  accomplishment 

Of  duteous  service.     Speaking,  men  he  tried 

To  move  with  new  impulses,  next  new  faiths, 

To  give  a  tenor  to  their  lives  that  would 

A  reason  for  itself  have  in  deep  thoughts, 

And  form  a  project  for  creating  well 

Out  of  old  themes,  old  laws,  old  usages 

A  period  better  for  humanity. 

Once  in  the  forum  uttered  he:   "These  days 
Affect  the  blood  and  make  it  feverish, 
Unsettling  us  from  habits  regular. 
Our  actions  false  give  false  results.     We  know 
The  present  is  a  destiny  wherein 
Man  moves  forever  and  forever  on. 
Yet  hope  ne'er  glorifies  each  day's  events 
With  what  it  would  have  pass ;  it  more  observes 


44  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

In  what's  to  come  than  in  what  is,  because 

It  sees  a  future  measureless,  that  keeps 

It  restless  by  a  false  comparison. 

Contentment,  wise  and  charitable,  invests 

E'en  poverty  with  noble  sentiments, 

Making  lowliness  good  despite  itself; 

Giving  a  certain  calm,  apprehended 

By  those  who  are  in  sympathy  with  what 

Unfolds  in  secret  silence  truth  by  truth. 

Some  conscious  of  this  calm,  do  reach  for  it ; 

They  blindly  grope  within,  their  store  of  pow'rs 

Among,  but  find  it  not,  in  turn  to  feel 

Emotion's  ignorance  is  life  not  born 

Into  the  freedom  of  a  thinking  world. 

Thus  in  endeavor  lost  they  strive.      It  seems 

A  shadow  shadows  them,  although  they  are 

Within  the  light  that  warms.     The  years  both  come 

And  go  to  multiply  seed  over  seed, 

Growth  over  growth,  fruit  over  fruit.      Nature 

Produces  these,  but  barren  they.     Their  lives 

Unfortunate  in  that  they  feel  not  long 

The  higher  arts  of  mind  which  would  transcend 

In  some  forthcoming  destiny— have  sight 

Beyond  the  present  in  perfection's  cause, 

Become  adhesive  in  its  earnestness, 

And  find  in  mental  limitations  they 

Are  passengers  unto  some  distant  point 

Of  double  capability.      Therein 

Ambition  finds  its  pay  in  noble  aims, 

And  honor  in  fulfillment  ;  for  therein 


THE  CITY  IN  RUINS.  45 

Fortune  is  less  and  less ;  therein  the  weeds 
Of  vanity  fade  more  and  more  ;  therein 
Content  increases,  shining  after  nights 
Of  trouble  on  days  of  quiescence,  men 
To  clothe  with  Nature's  robe,  they  claiming  her, 
She  claiming  them;  thus  hand-in-hand  to  go 
Adown  the  vista  of  successive  years, 
Endowed  above  the  world's  environment." 

He  ceased.     His  speech  was  vague  to  auditors, 
Deeming  he  spoke  of  men  remote,  and  not 
To  men  anear :  his   tact  too  fine  for  them  ! 
A  part  had  called  him  false  and  turned  aloof; 
Others  had  lingered  by  to  hear,  but  their 
Emotions  cold  rose  not  to  warmth  of  faith ; 
And  others  still,  a  few,  his  words  had  heard 
With  meaning  foiled,  their  hearts  intolerant. 

The  heavy  cloud  still  o'er  the  city  hung. 
Appeals  were  vain.      Gave  succor  not  the  gods; 
Disdained,  the  trivial  was  worshipped  more 
Than  they.     Soon  hopes,   like  fires  unfed,  died  out 
And  spread  their  ashes  o'er  men's  path.     The  cloud 
Still  hung  and  hung;  at  morn  'twas  there,  at  eve 
'T  was  there — the  sun  obscured,  the  moon  obscured. 
'Twas  like  a  portent  in  the  sky,  there  placed 
To  make  hearts  pause  and  fear.     For  guidance  men 
Looked  into  life's  abyss — no  ray  was  seen. 
Some  turned  to  crime,  and  others  to  despair. 
A  misrule  came  by  which  the  strong  despoiled 


46  CLASSICAL   POEMS. 

The  weak.     Old  placid  times  were  never  more 

To  be  !     Then  suddenly,  as  if  by  awe 

Inspired  to  flee  from  plague,  great  throngs  their  beds 

And  houseliold  gods  upgathered,  leaving  day 

By  day  through  archways  of  the  town, 

And  left  its  shrines,  its  walls,  its  palaces, 

Its  theatres  to  slow  decay — 

To  solitude  made  grim  by  Ruin's  hand. 


DOWN   AMID  THE   SHADOWS. 


on  a  time  at  night  the  musings  turned 
To  mystery  —  the  soul's  dark  covering- 
Oblivious  sleep  —  freedom  from  cares  to  have— 
From  struggles  vain  with  Fate's  dull  malady. 
The  hours  moved  off,  their  missions  all  fulfilled, 
Unto  the  depths  of  past's  eternity. 
At  last  a  dream,  with  symbols  of  an  art 
Presenting  truth,  unfolded  these  events: 

It  was  the  frontage  of  a  grove  whose  winds 
The  foliaged  haunt  of  sweet-mossed  earth  foretold. 
A  pathway  ran  through  it  to  distance  far  ; 
On  either  side  were  vistas  touched  with  charm, 
As  clouds  o'erchanging  seemed  adown  to  send 
From  their  own  hues  a  tranquilizing  haze. 
Upon  the  pathway  moved  anon  a  throng- 
Of  youths,  with  maidens  dressed  in  white  or  red, 


DOWN  AMID   THE  SHADOW'S.  47 

Who  soon  an  open  gate  approached,  and  went 

Within  the  Garden  of  Gay  Sciences. 

Therein  the  throng  themselves  dispersed — under 

The  shady  silence  of  an  oak-tree  old ; 

Among  retreats  knee-deep  with  verdure's  growth  ; 

Under  fresh  bow'rs,  each  bearing  clustered  grapes 

In  purple  plenty;  by  a  grotto  rude, 

Where  festal  things  were  spread ;  by  crystal  pools, 

Reflecting  boughs  above  with  sprays  thereon. 

The  lotus  and  the  asphodel  combined, 

Though  opposite,  to  lure,  each  in  its  way, 

To  places  proffering  much  of  speciousness. 

Thought  seemed  espoused  to  some  quiescent  realm 

Of  tempting  deities,  dream-webs  to  spin, 

Enmessing  self  in  Epicurean  ease, 

Believing  it  true  life,  not  its  sure  doom. 

Pleasure  instilled  forgetfulness :  in  vain 

Shone  down  the  calm  religion  of  the  sky ; 

The  beaming  hours  within  revolving  time 

Sped  on  unnoted  through  the  arch  of  day, 

Faith's  ministry  unfelt.      In  mild  disdain, 

There  Wrong  appeared  to  cry:    "Away  with  creeds, 

And  all  the  jargon  of  the  holy  church, 

That  would  restrain  with  Puritanic  bounds, 

That  bids  that  done  which  doing  thwarts  man's  pride." 

When  came  a  twilight  shadow  o'er  the  world, 
As  if  Nature,  supine,  was  doomed  to  die 
Amid  her  plenitude,  half  lost  in  dark 
The  garden  seemed.     How  transitory  oft 


4  8  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Within  contented  minds  the  sunny  hour! 

As  clouds  above  with  self-mysterious  pow'r 

Just  stirred,  obscuring  stars,  compunction  caused 

A  melancholy  numbness  of  the  thought ; 

And  down  a  vale  of  doubt  the  footsteps  moved, 

Leaving  the  garden  to  deep  shades  of  night. 

Anon  was  seen,  approaching  slowly  near, 
A  man  in  hermit's  garb.      He  held  aloft 
A  lantern,  choosing  with  its  ray  a  path 
That  led  from  place  to  place.      A  cup  he  bore 
That  quivered  in  his  aged  hand.      In  time 
He  was  hard  by,  and  bid  with  Stoic  glance 
The  lips  partake  what  was  within  the  cup  — 
A  gall  from  fruitage  squeezed  once  left  to  grow 
Within  the  garden  of  the  mind.      Alas, 
The  draught  most  bitter  was !     Then  thus  he  spoke 
"Conscience  am  I  to  guide  to  fate  below." 
The  mystic  scroll  of  good  he  then  explained ; 
Then  with  stern  quality  of  voice  defined, 
With  counsels  meet,  the  changes  that  befall 
Man's  growing  nature,  that,  by  Time  impelled 
Towards  ills  fronting,  unavoidable, 
Subdues  them  all,  he  proselyting  self 
To  virtue  from  probation's  course  of  years. 
He  ceased,  as  sighs  of  wind  about  were  heard. 
Then  with  a  cold  and  silent  dignity 
He  led  a  devious  way,  until  a  bound 
Was  reached,  wherein  a  cavern's  stony  depth 
Afforded  downward  aid  to  parts  remote — 


THE  PLATO  OF  THE  TOIVX.  49 

Downward  through  aisles — by  sounding  grottoes  chill 
With  subterranean  airs — through  chambers  wide, 
Where  long  stalactic  shapes  were  pendent  o'er. 
At  last,  where  daylight's  red  and  purple  orb 
Ne'er  peered,  the  goal  was  shown.     Therein 
Chaos  most  old  (Nature's  ancestor  grim) 
Was  clothed  in  formless  solitude  to  reign. 
Toward  him  went  as  if  an  innate  force 
Them  urged  a  spirit-throng  (and  lo !  it  was 
The  self-same  throng  of  youths  with  maidens  that 
Within  the  garden  moved)  to  surrender 
Themselves  (each  unabsolved)  thereto  and  shades — 
Yea,  everlasting  shades  within  the  goal. 

As  when  faint  sounds  of  discord  in  a  dream 
Alarm,  appearing  thus  so  real,  so  seemed 
A  voice  to  rouse  the  soul  at  waking  dawn 
The  verity  of  things  to  understand, 
As  Time  stood  to  redeem,  upholding  means 
And  crown  of  beauty,  asking  but  the  will 
To  rise  and  earn  the  treasures  in  his  hand. 


THE  PLATO  OF  THE  TOWN. 

S  intellectual  being  stood  out  large 
And  bold — a  giant  form — on  the  hill-top 
O'er  carnal  lowliness,  above  his  kind, 
And  men  preferred  it  so.     A  season  of  his  years 


50  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Had  come  wherein  he  saw  abundant  crops 
Rewarding  sacrifices  of  labor  prior  ; 
But  hopes  forespent  among  the  ills  of  time 
At  last  met  disappointment  more  and  more. 

He  had  seen  men  with  cynic's  eye.     Whilst  thus, 
His  instinct  to  select  mistook  its  way ; 
It  chose  a  field  perplexing — in  extent 
Perplexing  still ; — in  searching  for  few  facts, 
His  theories  to  color  with  belief, 
A  contradiction  came  in  cognate  facts, 
Making  his  purpose  feel  its  feebleness 
Before  his  reason.     Next  impatience  moved— 
Moved  him,  the  man  of  flesh,  long-haired,  rough-browed., 
With  ribs  and  thews  of  rare  development, 
As  thinking  wrought  a  spell,  and  cast  behind 
Sensations  crude.     Then  with  a  sigh  he  looked 
Upon  humanity  with  urbane  eye, 
And  felt  at  peace  with  it  and  with  himself. 
In  course  of  time,  his  disposition  changed, 
He  saw  rare  things  wherefrom  he  formed  an  aim, 
Having  both  fervor  and  stern  confidence. 
Profoundly  measuring  much  good  by  good, 
And  finding  charm  in  each,  resolved  he  what 
He  chose  into  a  model  fit,  ideal, 
Austere,  whereby  himself  to  mould.     Awhile 
Aloof  in  solitude  abided  he, 
Acquainted  with  the  things  of  moral  weal, 
Unfolding  joy  in  concord  with  the  days 
That  consecrated  were.     To  him  it  seemed 


THE  PLATO  OF  THE   TOWN.  5 

More  virtues  than  he  had  could  be  near  brought 
Through  thought — they  in  salvation  were  afar 
Glorious  in  perfection !     Thus  he  would, 
Whilst  still  pervaded  by  earth's  atmosphere, 
Remotely  haunt  eternal  Consciousness, 
It  deify,  and  to  it  kneel  as  to 
A  shrine.     The  present  was  a  stepping-stone 
Unto  the  height  he  saw  before ;  the  past 
Absorbed  him  not,  for  yesterday  was  but 
The  edge  receding  of  oblivious  years. 

With  that  warm  trustfulness  which  mothers  feel 
For  traits  marked  in  their  offspring,  so  sincere 
He  upon  doctrines  nursed  relied,  and  felt 
Them  meet  to  go  abroad  to  honor  win 
Through  services,  and  bless  their  cause  with  pride 
At  their  effect.      But  lo !  as  to  and  fro 
Went  crowds,  in  body  much,  in  spirit  scant, 
Finding,  then  missing  ways  unto  their  weal, 
His  voice  was  strange,  its  meaning  mute  to  ears 
Adverse.      He  taught  things  counter  to  the  world's. 
No  sin  did  he  excuse,  with  passion's  touch 
In  tone,  suggesting  egotism  was  moved 
To  countenance  another's  fault  for  sake 
Of  self-agreement  in  supporting  what 
Bestows  authority  for  breaking  laws 
And  exculpation  for  the  consequence. 
Man's  greatest  sin,  he  showed,  is  vanity ; 
And  it  would  rather  cheat  to  gain  esteem, 
Than  undeceive  to  lose  praise  false ;  than  be, 


52  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Would  rather  seem  a  long  life  through.      It  turns 

To  hug  the  false  with  zeal,  because  it  serves 

Expediency  with  a  pow'r  to  thrive 

More  certain  in  uncertainty.      Hence  such 

A  wrong  in  Paul  excites  no  self-reproof, 

Perceiving  that  it  gives  him  liberty 

To  take  from  others  to  himself:  his  pride 

Connives  at  it,  his  habit  sanctions  it, 

His  conscience  favors  it  with  sophistry. 

But  such  a  wrong  in  Job  arouses  what 

In  Paul  is  hateful  selfishness,  and  makes 

Him  loudly  censure  his  own  sin  in  him 

More  fortunate,  in  order  not  to  lose 

His  own  advantage  through  means  of  falsity. 

Thus  is  the  world  confounded  in  its  aims ; 

Too  prone  to  choose  the  wrong  and  not  the  right, 

It  sows  Talse  seed,  and  harvests  bitter  grain. 

His  words  were  laws  to  some,  they  greeting  him 
With  deference ;  but  others  blind,  who  knew 
No  honor  save  that  honored  by  the  eye, 
Not  by  the  mind,  would  flatter  him.     He  met 
These  with  a  mild  disdain ;  for  flattery 
To  him  was  satire  hid,  him  showing  frail 
Deceived  by  it;  for  worth  is  full,  he  knew; 
Content  within  itself,  inviting  none 
To  put  a  value  false  upon  its  traits 
With  spurious  means.     His  censor  conscience  just, 
In  love  with  humbleness,  at  peace  with  all 


THE  RECLUSE.  53 

His  mind  bore  fruit  sustaining  him,  and  had 
A  Summer  in  its  wintery  rigidness. 

But  on  the  whole,  his  firm  endeavors  failed 
Larger  to  make  men's  sight  with  his.        He  shrank 
From  where  his  neighbors  gathered  oft  to  talk, 
As  disappointments  slowly  bowed  his  head. 
Within  a  tenor  of  a  life  of  shade 
With  shade,  of  depth  with  depth,  he  settled  down, 
And  faced  conditions  with  philosophy, 
Then  Death   himself  at  a  mature  old  age 
With  animated  confidence ; — and  men 
Preferred  it  so.  — T  was  thus  he  died,  and  dead, 
They  knew  him  as  the  Plato  of  the  town. 


THE   RECLUSE. 

Amicus  humani  generis 

the  vales  he  dwelt.      He  knew  the  stars 
As  seamen  know  them,  watching  through  the  hours ; 
He  knew  the  winds,  and  whence  their  odors  came, 
Feeling  their  spectral  spell ;  he  knew  the  sounds 
Of  morn,  each  with  a  missive  to  his  ear 
.Of  thought  and  pleasure  grave ;  he  knew  the  world, 
Judging  with  senses  keen  himself  and  men 
At  large.      Acquainted  with  both  life  and  death, 
The  latter  was  to  him  a  birth,  himself 


54  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

In  womb  of  Time,  awaiting  for  death-life, 
With  Fate,  the  second  nurse,  expectant  close. 
He  thus  relations  held  unto  a  state 
Of  rarer  being,  doubly  living  high 
And  low,  exchanging  thought  for  thought ;  and  hence 
His  sympathies  enriched  themselves  with  what 
Proud  apathy  deemed  valueless.      He  knew 
Doubts  nourish  troubles  more  and  more,  and  faiih 
Protects  itself  by  shielding  joy  in  hope. 
Him  moved  convictions  good  and  manifold, 
He  fearlessly  upholding  them.      He  loved 
The  common  tenor  of  a  common  way. 
His  modesty — not  of  the  borrowed  sort- 
It  fit  him  like  a  coat  most  aptly  made — 
Touching  the  hearts  of  men,  caused  them  to  view 
His  nature  with  approving  eye.      Indeed, 
He  moved  humanity  with  what  him  moved, 
Leading  his  followers  toward  the  lore 
Revealing  life's  ulterior  ends.      He  showed 
That  men  do  worship  what  they  need :  Dives' 
Repast  is  Hunger's  gospel ;  calves  of  gold 
Are  honored  for  the  metal,  not  the  form 
Expressive  of  a  moral  fact;  and  that 
Reason's  purpose  is  folly's  servant  oft, 
Yet  seldom  weaving  from  its  discontent 
The  home-spun  comfort  of  contentment. 
Yet  doth  the  soul  gift  them  with  inner  light, 
That  once  to  see  seems  unaccountable, 
Still  that  they  know  is,  feeling  that  they  are 
Somehow  moved  by  the  self-same  light  from  worse 


THE  RECLUSE. 

To  better.      But  to  follow  flesh  man  finds 

A  sacrifice  hath  been  his  pilgrimage : 

Bearing  with  heavy  mind  increasing  loads 

Of  knowledge  false,  to  nature  blind,  he  sees 

Vague  depths,  and  follows  failure  as  a  torch 

To  dismal  loss;  or  by  ambition  urged, 

He  fronts  the  sun  of  fame ;  his  shadow  falls 

Behind  to  represent  him  to  the  world 

Disfigured  on  the  stepping-stones  by  which 

He  would  by  slow  degrees  ascend.      Nowise 

With  truth,  he  deems  himself  with  knowledge  rich ; 

Deems  what  appears  is  equal  to  what  is ; 

Deems  Nature's  emblem  is  a  thing  to  wear, 

Fruitless,  the  lapel  on  of  vanity, 

Whilst  Nature's  self  to  conscience  sighs  and  speaks 

Of  thwarted  usefulness.      Hence  Nature  casts 

His  shadow  on  the  stepping-stones  to  show 

The  world  his  own  disfigurement  that  is 

Within  himself— to  Truth  with  truth  she  shows. 

She  leads  the  mind  to  choose  earth's  sentiments — 

The  good  from  bad — the  wheat  from  chaff — and  gives 

Unto  emotions'  bounds  a  sweet  extent, 

Having  the  possible  in  chrysalis, 

Enabling  them  to  see  right  means,  right  ends; 

See  flesh  as  dust,  and  soul  as  life — see  their 

Own  triumph  after  death  unfolding  still 

Their  pow'rs  in  an  eternal  secrecy, 

In  recognition  of  the  truth  of  Truth  ! 


55 


56  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Suchwise  he  taught  unto  adherents  few 
With  systematic  patience  of  a  mind 
Endowed  to  minister  from  deep  belief 
And  bosom  purified.      A  friend  or  two 
Felt  favors  on  them  thrust  with  solemn  force, 
Upraising  from  unworthiness,  yet  saw 
Themselves  unripe  in  his  maturity, 
Meeting  his  presence  with  a  seriousness 
As  if  it  were  a  medium  sure  to  depths 
Of  Providence  in  visionary  realms. 


THE  INSISTENCE  OF  NATURE. 

Nature  the  vicar  of  the   Almightie  Lord." — Chaucer. 

"VTTHAT  independent  life  among  the  fields  ! 

The  spirit  of  the  month  assuages  it 
With  nameless  calm.     Withal,  the  air  cloth  hold 
A  solemn  virtue  known  to  him  who  thinks 
Profoundly  of  his  being's  attitude 
Toward  the  mystery  of  that  which  is — 
Of  that  which  near  in  privacy  of  Time 
Instils  emotions  with  a  sympathy 
For  day  and  all  its  hues,,  for  night  and  all 
Its  orbs.     The  fields,  the  hills,  the  vales,  the  woods, 
Clothed  in  a  tranquilizing  green,  hath  each 
A  potency,  embodied  not,  yet  speaks 
Of  hidden  excellence — of  something  rare 
Behind  their  folds.     Approaching  the  ideal 


•THE  INSISTENCE  OF  NATURE.  57 

Of  what  is  better  than  the  best  within 

Itself,  the  mind  is  moved.      Here  faith  trusts  life 

To  come,  as  murmurs  cast  a  spell;  deep,  deep 

They  sink,  and  the  imagination  move, 

Conducive  to  faith's  end  of  happiness 

Through  visions  seen.     Within  a  pleasure  comes 

Anon  to  stay ;  it  shows  that  Nature  is 

Unto  the  hope  a  language  and  a  law, 

Inspiring  and  directing  it  with  dreams 

Musically  attuned.      Thereby  the  sense 

Is  amplified  with  pow'r,  not  from  within, 

But  from  without,  and  with  perception  clear 

Compares  the/r<?  and  con  of  man.      It  sees 

His  dwelling  place  is  darkness.     Yet  his  night 

Is  neighbor  to  his  day  ;  his  self  at  worst 

Is  neighbor  to  his  self  at  best ;  his  fate 

Is  neighbor  to  his  choice;  his  woe  to  joy; 

His  falsity  to  truth ;  his  life  to  time 

Eternal.     Death's  sorceries  perplexes  him ; 

He  ponders,  still  no  sweet  assurance  has ; 

No  depth  in  him  reveals  unravelment; 

The  offspring  of  experience  come  and  die  ; 

His  energies  work  not  in  noble  use; 

He  shifts  his  efforts  here  and  there,  and  deems 

Fortune,  not  Justice,  will  a  favor  grant ; 

In  quest  of  Wisdom,  spurns  he  pearls  before 

His  feet,  and  gathers  Folly's  flow'rs.     Alas  ! 

Forsaking  his  divinity,  he  aches  and  mourns, 

Then  toils  and  climbs,  yet  scorns  that  altitude 

Of  thought  which  parts  him  from  the  ways  of  earth 


58  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

And  human  interests  involving  him. 

Nature  at  hand  with  scene,  breeze,  leaf,  bloom,  brook, 

Bird,  bee  and  sound,   has  aught  for  him  to  claim  — 

Association  fit! — but  'tis  his  whim  to  live 

Within  himself  as  in  a  spell  adverse 

To  her — as  in  a  mould  imperfect  made, 

And  not  in  unison  with  heart  sincere 

And  mind  exact.      Indeed,  his  flesh  and  blood 

Both  foster  self  in  selfishness.     Hollow, 

With  Nature  he  endeavors  to  brave  out 

Some  cause  amiss — shows  what  he  is,  he  is 

Unknown  to  himself.     Tis   she  that  knows 

Him  all,  and  for  his  discipline  debars 

Him  from  the  grace  of  that  intelligence 

Of  self  until  the  time  appropriate 

For  qualities  abstruse ;  meanwhile  to  him, 

A  common  man,  'tis  she  that  is  a  pow'r 

Both  when  he  sleeps,  and  when  he  wakes ;  when  he 

Mistakes,  when  he  succeeds;  when  he  obeys, 

When  he  commands,  and  in  uncertainty 

Of  change  by  change  most  certain  is.      Amiss 

He  reads  transitions  past  from  child  to  man  ; 

He  feels  not  they  attain  a  destiny 

Remotely  placed.     When  he  relinquished  states 

Of  former  growth  in  other  ones  to  dwell, 

Despite  himself,  he  felt  not  gain  from  means 

Awaiting  his  advent,  nor  anticipates 

Those  yet  reserved.     Still  silent  Nature  near 

Insisting,  with  her  myriad  pow'rs,  unites 

Him  to  herself,  influencing  him  through  years, 


TEMP  US  FUG  IT.  59 


Until  perfections  raise  themselves  above 

His  blemishes,  and  calmly  honor  him 

With  virtue's  thought  with  virtue's  soul  to  guide. 


TEMPUS   FUGIT. 

flies!  we  fade!  although  we  breathe  in  joy, 
Heart-fruitful  in  a  cause  of  truth,  in  hope 
The  future  will  answer  each  fond  desire 
With  palmy  fullness.      Winter  near,  we  say 
That  harvest  comes  with  it :   with  Nature's  laws 
At  variance,  faith  is  over-strong,  and  makes 
A  zone  adapted  to  its  purposes, 
Ignoring  aught  besides.     'Tis  thus  we  dwell 
In  joy,  in  hope,  in  faith.     The  past  is  seen, 
Where  wandered  as  the  butterfly  the  sense 
Ideal,  it  haunting  us  from  year  to  year, 
Making  us  dream.     Somehow  this  feeling  old 
Prevails  in  spite  of  what  hath  been,  and  gives 
A  second  soul  devoted  to  an  aim, 
Not  of  this  world,  but  of  that  world  to  which 
As  phantoms  travel  we  with  silent  feet 
From  point  to  point.     Still  drowse  too  oft 
We  on  the  wayside  banks,  avoiding  then 
The  background  deep  of  sober  thought,  purblind 
To  that  which  only  can  accomplished  be 
Through  aspiration  active  to  its  end; 
j4-nd  our  purblindness  would  embody  things 


60  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Not  worthy  of  the  true  unfolding  depth 

Of  life.     Then  melancholy  comes  anon, 

Playing  with  touches  strange  upon  the  mood, 

As  we  in  it  behold  reflected  traits 

Of  what  ours  are.     With  Time  associate, 

The  subtleties  of  nature  show  what  we 

Could  be,  and  urge  the  disposition's  zeal 

With  greater  effort  to  fulfill  a  work 

Befitting,  as  a  mould,  the  figure  of  ourselves. 

Though  often  deaf  to  them,  they  speak  to  us, 

Like  oracles,  as  with  authority, 

As  rise. we  by  slow  heed  from  levels  that 

Depress  the  will's  free  sensibility, 

To  elevations  that  sustain  and  soothe, 

Enriching  with  those  means  which  to  the  sage 

Reflecting  deep,  feels  best,  sees  best,  keeps  best, 

And  reads  the  history  of  the  human  mind 

With  vision  comprehending  more  and  more. 

Still  we  exist  in  what  v/e  feel ;  see  things 

That  never  were,  nor  will  they  be ;  in  vain 

We  look  for  them,  conjuring  with  ourselves 

In  spite  of  learning,  time,  eternity, 

Wonders  to  do — play  heroes  to  a  glass ; 

See  much  in  little,  fail  to  mark  what's  great ; 

Teaching  the  puppet-self  an  aping  trade, 

We  think  each  day  a  stage  whereon  to  act, 

And  acting  think  the  game  of  life  is  won. 

The  truth  that  animates  sincerity 

The  heart  possesses  not.     Our  frailty  seeks 

Excuses  for  itself  in  fancied  gifts 


r EM  res  Frcrr.  61 

Of  strength  that  fail  in  exercise. 

Sense  pines  for  what  it  hungers,  leaving  pass 

The  hour  of  grace  for  mid-day's  dubious  boon, 

As  comes  a  palsy-touch  upon  the  flesh, 

Making  us  grow  old.     Sentiments  intense 

That  flowers  are  with  aroma,  that  need 

The  warmth  of  happy  circumstance,  die  ere 

The  fade-time ;  and  we  altered  are  from  what 

Is  warm  to  what  is  cold.     In  coldness  lost, 

Too  much  we  claim,  too  little  others  give ; 

Our  grafted  pow'rs  bear  other  fruit  than  ours  ; 

What  folly  feels  we  worship  as  a  shrine  : 

The  reason  sees  not  with  a  lordly  eye ; 

We  solve  one  problem,  then  for  thousands  ask, 

Them  answer  not,  yet  stand  we  by  the  one, 

Deeming  our  insight  to  a  greatness  grown  ;— 

But,  lo!  our  pride  is  great,  ourselves  are  small. 

We  find  us  idols  to  upraise,  that  move 

Those  passions  secret  which  men  aggravate, 

Making  them  mad,  misleading  them  from  Truth — 

From  Truth  who  mirrors  in  themselves  that  fate 

Which  shows  at  last  results,  with  something  fraught 

Having  a  choral  symphony  for  soul 

To  hear  in  vagueness  of  its  faculties, 

And  see  unfolding  scenes  of  finer  joy, 

And  feel  incentives  to  endeavors  great, 

And  know  reward  in  new  experience  sweet : 

Yea,  bliss  they  never  breathe,  within  a  sphere 

They  never  reach,  is  there — deep,  deep  within 

That  fate.     Still  Time  flies.     Still  we  eat,  and  drink, 


62  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

And  sleep,  and  soon  forget  both  kin  and  friends — 

The  victims  of  the  tomb— and  turn  to  meet 

Another  morrow  with  another  face. 

Still  purposeless,  our  faith's  without  a  heart; 

Our  wants  mere  vapor  to  evaporate ; 

Our  transient  mood  in  fellowship  with  scorn; 

Our  peace  mere  ashes — burned  out  coals 

Of  former  action.     Still  we  bubbles  court, 

Then  find  them  gone ;   or  hunger  for  the  fruit 

Ere  days  of  blossom ;  or  esteem  a  charm 

Locked  in  futility.      What  gives  to  mind 

A  fibre  firm,  and  gives  to  brows  brows  not 

Their  own,  and  hues  to  hues,  and  life  to  life — 

The  everlasting  light  of  destiny — 

We  know  not.      What's  nobler  than  ascending  change ! 

Duty  is  e'er  a  path  whereon  dew-gleams 

Invite  before  to  Time's  upraising  grade, 

Transforming  life  to  death,  and  death  to  life 

In  peaceful  unity  with  heaven's  own  change. 

But  still  Time  flies !     Returning  not  with  us 

Again,  another  throng  will  take  our  place 

In  other  seasons  and  with  other  scenes. 

'Tis  even  now  encroaching  changes  end 

Must  soon.     We  fade  like  cold  November  leaves; 

Yet  falter  ere  we  fall,  as  Fate  below— 

What  Fate  ? — the  one  of  prophets  true  who  tell 

Of  beauty  and  its  righteousness  remote  ? — 

Awaits  to  gather  to  the  shade  of  shades. 


STEPPING-STONES.  63 

STEPPING-STONES. 


A    YOUTH  pursues  a  butterfly  anear 

Upon  a  road  that  seems  to  lead  to  groves; 
He  deems  a  guider  true  the  winged  gaud ; 
He  deems  a  journey  brief  toward  its  goal. 
Anon  the  guider's  gone,  the  road  is  lost 
Within  a  labyrinth  of  forest  trees ; 
Then  sober  Eve  comes  on  to  show  his  thought 
That  life's  ideal  is  merged  within  the  real. 

n. 

A  youth  that  plays  with  toys  by  Fancy  made 
Dream-wise  within  a  garden  green  of  Spring, 
Foretells  where  tends  the  footstep  of  the  mind 
To  gain  a  manly  bourne  in  time  before  : 
What  country  it  will  reach  to  claim  a  tie, 
What  soil  approach  with  favor  to  possess, 
What  seeds  implant  within  the  fallow  ground, 
What  sheaves  bind  in  the  fertile  harvest  month, 
What  fruitage  gather  from  the  branch's  hold, 
What  measures  of  the  bounties  once  acquired 
Others  will  give  to  help  their  journey  on. 

in. 

A  youth,  though  in  a  narrow  limit  born, 
Though  knowing  naught  of  trade  and  far  affairs, 
Can  with  his  mere  imagination  form 


64 


CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

A  vast  domain  where  he  alone  is  lord. 
True  laws  of  government  he  may  ordain, 
Rare  public  virtues  show  for  models  just, 
Wise  intercourses  hold  with  neighbor-realms ; 
May  build,  o'erthrow  with  alternate  design 
Work  to  surpass  before  with  work  ere  long. 

IV. 

A  distant  goal  is  open  to  be  gained, 
Wherein 'are  laurel  wreaths  to  crown  success. 
As  ancient  champions  eager  to  outdo, 
Proud  youths  devote  themselves  their  will  to  train 
To  reach  a  prospect  of  bestowing  years. 
They  turn  from  specious  spheres  wherein  abound 
No  heights  to  beck  them  upward  to  exalt- 
Wherein  are  souls  that  know  not  their  great  loss. 

v. 

The  tendency  of  faithful  Love  first  touched 
With  early  gleams  of  its  awaking  light 
Is  to  retire  from  ways  of  turmoil-trade, 
To  rove  alone  in  brighter  atmosphere, 
To  purify  the  mood  with  clearer  thought, 
Like  a  cioud  that  leaves  the  dismal  folds  of  storm, 
Seeking  some  tranquil  sky  afar  to  turn 
Its  aspect  dark  into  a  snowy  one. 


VI. 


The  alchemy  of  Love  transmutes  within 
Dull  dross  to  gold  :  a  man  in  fortune  thrives 


STEPPING-STONES.  65 

Among  his  friends  ;  he  gains  abundant  land 

In  neighborhood  of  towns;   keeps  wolves  at  bay, 

That  haunt  about  a  poor  man's  meagre  means 

As  if  in  scorn  of  cabined  poverty  ; 

Enlarges  all  his  views,  that  see  afar 

Life's  Unities  awaiting  to  assist 

Him  year  by  year  in  adding  to  his  worth. 


'Tis  Love  that  aids  the  bud  of  knighthood  out 
Under  the  warmth  of  sympathetic  skies, 
To  tinge  the  petals  with  a  color  known 
To  eyes  adept  in  reading  mystic,  lore — 
In  seeing  depths  under  a  surface  lie. 
Anon  a  bloom  with  symbols  o'er  it  spread 
Unto  an  idle,  wond'ring  world  it  shows, 
Throngs  to  a  centre  of  repose  to  woo, 
Them  with  a  lotus-touch  of  calm  to  charm, 
That  they  may  turn  to  dwell  its  sphere  within. 

VIII. 

A  woman's  soul  a  star  of  guidance  is! 
Purblind  the  man  her  roses  of  delight, 
Her  invitations  to  a  peaceful  bower, 
Her  harp  to  hear  inspired  by  sympathy, 
Refuses,  deeming  them  with  snares  replete. 
She  spreads  around  her  glamour,  which  conceals 
The  bosom  of  her  worth ;  it  serves  t6  woo 
Unto  those  traits  of  hers  that  fruitful  are — 
That  multiply  themselve-s  in  men — that  move 


66  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Hearts  masculine,  unconscious  of  the  cause, 
In  sweet  effects  to  act  a  lifetime  out. 


Let  higher  self  desire  in  time  to  claim 
A  heritage  from  Nature  fraught  with  traits, 
To  scatter  them  as  seeds  within  Life's  field, 
The  growths  virtues,  the  fruits  thick  pendent  o'er. 
Some  evils  show  upon  the  branch's  form, 
Others  virtues  in  prime's  copious  season; 
Some  have  the  marks  of  folly  on  the  rind, 
Others  the  juice  of  wisdom   at  the  core. 


To  live  awhile  with  things  of  silent  Time 
That  are  in  sky,  in  air,  on  earth,  in  sea— 
To  hold  communion  with  them  all,  to  feel 
A  strange  beatitude  in  turn  arouse— 
A  beatitude  to  haunt  in  day,  in  night; 
A  pow'r  without  to  rule  a  pow'r  within 
To  draw  life's  forces  forth— is  to  conform 
The  manhood  to  a  way  of  rectitude 
Essential  to  the  progress  of  its  state. 


The  cold   may  come  with  Winter  in  the  front; 
The  stars  retire  behind  the  sable  clouds ; 
The  storm  assail  the  tree-tops  on  the  heights, 
Ruling  god-like  in  bold  obscurity ; 
Still  round  the  citadel  of  manhood  stern 


STEPPING-STONES.  67 

Let  feet  move  on  to  utter  timely  cry 

When  danger  near  approaches  to  besiege 

Let  thoughts  thoughts  sentinel  to  see 
That  all  their  duty  do  until  the  morn, 
That  virtues  housed  within  may  be  secure, 
That  evils  may  be  held  at  proper  bay. 


'Tis  nobleness  of  thought  that  well  inspires 
Toward  high  purposes;  these  once  achieved, 
Prove  false  the  fear  of  those  that  them  conceive 
A  sacrifice  to  gain.     A  largess  great 
They  give  to  all.     Who  turns  a  reason  loath 
Upon  them  shows  a  disposition  crude— 
A  thing  amiss,   astray  from  its  true  path — 
Nature  within  distracted  from  its   aim — 
Himself  a  germ  devoid  of  helpful  soil. 


A  heart  of  charity  a  servant  is. 
It  traces  truth  unto  its  secret  haunts, 
Discerns  that  periods  are  at  service  good: 
The  days  come  forth  their  labor  to  perform, 
The  nights  have  weary  vigils  to  maintain, 
The  months  support  their  burdens  to  the  front, 
The  season^serf-like  push  through  heat  or  cold, 
The  years  at  work  are  sternly  moving  on. 
Then  why  should  man  disdain  to  be  confined, 
As  things  of  Nature  are,   in  service-tasks, 
That  truth  may  well  reward  him  in  the  end? 


68  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

XIV. 

To  worship  day-dreams  is  a  tendency 
Of  those  who  love  their  fellow-beings  well — 
To  cherish  passing  schemes  the  race  to  raise 
Above  normal  unto  supernal  good. 
Hence  they  oft  labor  in  a  fond  belief 
That  an  event  encounters  to  oppose. 
The  path  of  progress  blocked,  in  turn  it  seems 
Charity's  aim  is  doomed.     Those  elements 
Promote  that  with  small  gain  small  gain  improves — 
An  object  little  makes,  but  large  in  worth. 
Then  worship  not  day-dreams  with  their  false  views, 
Ye  charitable,  but  lowly  labor  on. 


A  man  of  wisdom  sees  rare  things  before, 
Mystic  at  first,  yet  at  a  future  hour 
Clearer  they  show  themselves;  they  footsteps  lead, 
As  indexes,  to  golden  eventide  — 
That  eventide  of  time  where  Age  at  ease 
Sits  down  among  his  sundry  records  old 
To  read  his  past — the  fortunate  release 
From  days  once  tangled  in  a  web  of  years — 
The  new-come  freedom — happiness  restored— 
The  spirit  mounting  o'er  the  flesh  to  find 
Its  sum  of  troubles  but  a  brief  ado. 

XVI. 

A  vista  clear  before  of  thought  profound 
Presents  a  goodly  prospect  all  the  year — 


STEPPING-STONES.  69 

No  Winter  rash  pours  down  with  Boreal  breath 

A  frigid  fury  on  the  fleeing  South. 

True  effort  means  a  journey  to  its  bounds  — 

A  task  confined  \vithin  a  course  of  time, 

That  self-adjusts  unto  forthcoming  ties, 

It  knowing  they  bestow  due  recompense. 

XVII. 

The  pow'r  to  bear  a  judgment  firm  on  self, 
To  prove  its  faults,  and  censure  so  the  same 
That  they  repeated  cause  to  conscience  pain ; 
To  prove  its  merits,  raise  them  to  a  place 
That  they  become  reminders,  each  a  form, 
By  which  to  aid  the  spirit-faculties ; — 
Is  oft  denied  to  those  that  callous  are  ; 
Absorbed  in  specious  things  spread  out  before, 
They  see  within  not  their  own  dormant  gifts. 


A  life  of  mere  cold  years  wherein  to  move 
As  one  confined  upon  an  island  lone, 
To  eat,  to  clothe,  to  sleep — no  more— is  dross 
Surrounding  gold — a  seed  within  a  rock — 
The  Real  opposing  the  Ideal,  that  needs 
Warm  years,  a  hemisphere  of  space,  the  looks 
Of  love,  the  social  sympathies  of  homes, 
And  temples  which  contribute  mysteries 
Imagination  to  arouse. 


70  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

XIX. 

The  voice  of  inner  truth  holds  converse  with 
A  world  of  shade,  of  light :  the  one  has  death, 
The  other  life.      Life  has  a  force  to  go, 
If  no  defects  retard,  through  far  degrees 
Of  light,  growth  to  assist  in  endless  space. 
Then  carry  self  from  flesh  to  criticise, 
As  in  a  glass,  the  flaws  upon  the  soul 
That  it  may  to  due  remedies  apply. 

xx. 

In  existence  there  is  a  bounty  rare 
Greater  than  Himalaya's  bulky  range, 
Whereby  the  heathen  swart  in  fancy  sees 
Of  grandeur  tier  on  tier  to  uplands  high — 
A  bounty  that  beyond  succeeds  itself 
In  settlements  most  firm  of  rising  ridge 
O'er  ridge,  until  the  outline  of  a  peak 
Stands  forth,  a  crown  of  white  upon  its  brow. 


SLEEP. 

harvest-field  of  dreams  is  poppied  o'er; 
Within  deep  sleep  we  reach  the  highest  peace ; 
The  warmth  of  Summer  gives  a  bounteous  rest, 
With  calm's  enchantment  in  its  atmosphere ; 
Then  let  us  turn  to  slumber,  turn  to  dreams 
And  their  vague  spell.      Now  is  our  harvest  storeds 


SLEEP.  7  ] 

How  sweet  the  song  of  labor  done  and  past ! 

Yet  mortals  need  a  self-forgetfulness. 

Change  comes  by  law,  and  not  by  chance,  and  gives 

Something  better  for  something  worse.      Follows 

Attainment  after  toil,  life  after  birth, 

Death  after  life.      Involved  in  change,  we  have 

Our  longings,  and  would  with  the  birds  rejoice, 

That  sing  in  happiness  unconsciously ; 

Seeking  it  not,  it  comes  to  them  at  will ; 

With  us  'tis  otherwise.     Our  seeking  foils 

The  search,  or  finding  cloys  the  sympathy, 

And  leaves  amiss  what  would  appropriate  be, 

With  disappointment  ever  in  the  fore. 

Then  slumber  we,  and  dream,  forgetting  ties 

Of  earth,  cobwebbed  awhile  in  gloom  of  glooms, 

Akin  to  blessedness  of  night,  and  warm 

Like  Lethe's  stream,  assuaging  in  its  sound 

Upon  the  pebbles ;  dead  to  thought  and  strife, 

To  heart's  triumph,  to  mind's  environment 

On  some  Parnassian  height  of  laurels  won. 

With  plain  food  by  we  hunger  for  a  feast ; 

With  feelings  moved  we  see  with  erring  eyes ; 

With  common  gifts  we  would  transcend  the  gods — 

Yea,  dead  to  these,  ambition's  heritage, 

Let's  lie  in  slumber,  deep  within  ourselves, 

Whilst  to  our  spirit  comes,  on  mission  sent, 

The  starlight's  spirit  from  the  twinkling  gloom, 

Making  us  placid  evermore  in  years — 

Placid  and  wise  like  silver  gray  of  age. 


72  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 


OLD  AGE. 

/^JLD  AGE !  what  are  to  thee  the  airs  of  youth  ? 

The  roses  on  the  cheek  of  joyousness? 
The  supple  gait  in  concord  with  a  will 
Of  inward  animation  ?     Health  and  bliss 
Bestow  their  charms,  then  leave  behind  a  taste 
That  profits  by  their  loss,  inspiring  thought 
With  precepts  fitted  to  the  mind's  fond  wont 
Made  grave  by  years.     Thy  melancholy's  cold 
Hath  then  a  heat  engendering  growth  of  fruit, 
Hanging  between  the  branches  of  thy  gnarled 
And  crooked  strength,  with  flavor  that 
Commends  itself.     Yet  men  sit  at  thy  feet, 
As  at  an  altar,  fearing  thee  too  prone. 
Thy  Roman  look  hath  awe  compelling  them 
To  shrink.      They  hear  thy  wiser  words  as  words, 
With  inner  meaning  e'er  devoid ;  thy  board, 
With  viands  set,  mixed  simple  needs,  are  scraps 
(The  penalties  of  begging  poverty) 
To  them ;   thy  actions  are  construed  to  fit 
The  understanding  that  doth  censure  thee 
Amiss  in  cold  dislike,  or  serve  a  jest 
To  subjects  that  dilate  themselves  in  terms 
Hilarious  about  the  tavern  door, 
That  mimic  heedless  of  the  consequence. 
Yet  thou,  too,  wert  as  they — thy  scoffing  time ! 
Then  thou  hadst  fancies  wild— just  as  have  they! — 
And  love  unsettling  thee,  and  frolics  oft 


OLD  AGE.  73 

Within  the  town !     Strange  crotchets,  too,  thou  hadst 

In  aims,  a  score  by  score,  which  never  found 

An  issue  in  fruition !     Then  quaint  ideas 

(That  opposition  taught  thee  how  to  guard 

With  words  of  prejudice,  withal  sincere) 

Of  spheres  remote  from  thee,  whose  habitants 

Were  paragons  for  men  of  politics, 

Where  justice  law  forestalled  (in  theory!) 

Where  life  a  tenor  oped  to  vistas  rare 

Of  intellectual  fields — of  wisdom's  life 

The  form,  of  patience's  life  the  soul.     It  thus 

Appears  a  spirit  in  thee  worked  to  show 

To  where  all  tend,  and  made  thee  dwell  at  times 

In  spheres  befitting  to  the  use  of  what 

Within  thee  is,  and  by  comparison 

Of  good  with  bad  led  thee  from  change  to  change — 

From  worst  to  best  in  semblance.     Life's  rare  worth 

Lies  in  obscurity.      It  crowns  hairs  gray. 

'Tis  thus  a  royalty  becoming  thee 

Favors  thy  state — proud  privilege  above 

Thy  kind !     From  the  beginning  to  the  end 

Thou  seest  men  distinguished  from  the  paths 

Wherein  they  follow  leaderships  unseen 

To  fancied  points  unseen — with  pity's  eye 

Thou  seest.     Thus  Xerxes  saw  the  movement  vast 

Of  multitudes  in  whom  survival's  check, 

He  knew,  too  well,  was  the  green  turf  on  which 

They  trod — the  earth  that  bore  them  would  reclaim 

Them  dead.      Where  then  the  music  of  their  tones? 

Where  then  each  beauty  and  its  sorcery? 


74  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Where  then  pre-eminence  with  honors  cloyed, 
Yet,  selfish,  reaching  out  for  more  ? — But  ere 
The  leveling  time  doth  come,  unto  thyself 
Austere,  who  speaketh  little,  thinketh  more, 
Prevaileth  thou  like  a  magician  skilled, 
Discreet,  in  weaving  into  thy  strange  web 
Of  destiny  such  colors  of  thyself 
As  make  it  strong  and  beautiful :  and  in 
The  furrows  of  thy  years  the  seed  is  cast, 
To  garner  when  the  month  of  harvest  comes 
Sheaves  of  thy  pow'rs,  ere  Autumn  seals  with  cold  ;- 
And  thou  art  blessed,  Old  Age ! 


BEAUTY. 

'nniS  Beauty  that  makes  music  to  the  march 

Of  life,   and  makes  men  feel  as  victors  ere 
A  victory's  won.     She  doth  inspire  that  which 
We  know  not  of,  but  which  emotions  mould 
Into  an  apprehension  rare,  and  make 
It  strong  and  confident;  and  of  that  which 
Doth  harmonize  with  peace,  until  it  makes 
The  territory  of  our  happiness 
Extend  so  far  it  heaven  seems  to  meet 
In  horizontal  calm. 

Inhabits  she 
The  sky,  the  earth,  the  sea,  the  breast  of  man, 


BEAUTY.  75 

With  aught  attuned  to  poesy  in  all 
Her  moods,  profound  yet  simple  in  her  means 
Well  used,  as  fleeting  as  the  rainbow's  tints ; 
As  tranquil  as  the  trees  of  tropic  woods; 
As  changeful  as  the  billows  of  deep  seas ; 
As  lasting  as  immortal  spirit,   where 
Purposes  flourish,  bearing  seed  and  fruit. 
Turning  melancholy  to  hopefulness, 
Her  presence  's  ever  felt  but  never  seen. 

Her  own  salvation  is  enduring  truth ; 
Infusing  it  into  choice  Nature's  works, 
Unfolds  she  them  into  a  vital  form, 
Its  color  virtue,  and  its  odor  soul, 
And  gives  new  glory  to  old  worldly  things. 
In  meadow's  haze  upon  a  warm  June  day 
Of  themes  romantic  to   artistic  minds 
She  speaks,   as  if  behind  a  golden  veil, 
With  language  deep  from  her  intuition  keen. 

Ling'ring  by  the  shore  of  idleness, 
Praying  that  Triton  may,  as  once  of  yore, 
Blow  his  shell-trumpet,  giving  earnestness 
Unto  our  frames  that  we  may  go  abroad 
To  vanquish  in  accordance  with  that  which 
Holds  beau-ideals  of  what  heroic  is, 
We  think   of  Beauty,  Aphrodite's  birth, 
And  thinking,  dream  with  double  pleasure  even-ore. 


76  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 


AURORA. 

A  URORA,   thou  with  man  must  sympathize; 

I  deem  that  love  is  in  thy  light ;  it  comes 
Adown  the  East  on  slopes  dew-spangled  o'er, 
As  if  a  dove  from  heaven's  lofty  haunt. 
If  so — for  otherwise  how  could  it  be? — 
A  certain  knowledge  of  the  truth  would  give 
Fresh  life,  fresh  faith,  fresh  aims  unto  my  mind 
Of  maiden  thoughts.     Sojourning  here  below 
Awhile,  birth  comes  but  once,  we  pause  a  term, 
Then  wander  through  the  gloom  to  thee.     'Tis  thus 
On  Roman  soil  I  breathe  and  hear  the  flow 
Of  Tiber  ever  in  my  ear,  and  so 
My  feelings  flow  within  the  channel  small 
Of  present  sense,  and  wish  for  bounds  more  wide. 
Meanwhile,  I  consecrate  myself  to  thee, 
To  live,  to  hope,  to  have  secluded  joys 
And  blithely  to  attune  my  inner  self 
To  tranquility.     When  the  woods  are  green, 
The  fields  adorned  with  blooms  as  red  as  wine. 
The  brooklets  sprightliest  with  Summer  sounds, 
Then  seems  a  special  benediction  comes 
From  thee  to  me.     There's  alchemy  within 
Thy  presence,  turning  dross  to  gold.     The  Earth 
Feels  it  \vith  buoyancy ;  for  lo !   she  knows 
Thou  comest  to  bestow  that  which  makes  rich 
Her  o'er  and  o'er — yea,  richer  far  than  all 
We  know  of  Elysium,  she  dowered  is, 
Making  the  gods  with  envy  look  at  her. 


AURORA.  77 

Then,  too,  beholding  upward  at  an  hour 

When  clouds  besprinkle  rain  upon  the  hill, 

They  glow,  approaching  thee,  as  if  they  sent 

Strange  incense  from  a  shrine  to  thee  supreme; 

And  when  the  rainbow  steals  athwart,  it  is 

Thy  glory;  and  it  is  felicity 

To  deem  /Eolus  lulls  his  winds  awhile 

To  murmur  music  to  thy  ear.     No  less 

Is  fancy  moved  (for  fancy  doth  create 

What  it  loves  best)  to  deem,  when  harvest  days 

Come  with  their  Southern  warmth,  Ceres  uplifts 

Her  features  potent  with  expressiveness, 

Observing  for  awhile  with  kindling  eyes, 

As  if  with  rapture  mute,  next  turns  to  praise 

Thee  for  thy  silver  store  inspiring  that 

To  grow  which  is  her  cherishment.     Then,  too, 

Pomona  mild,  among  thy  gifts  the  flow'rs, 

Listening  serenely  to  the  chirp  that  comes 

From  near  some  aerial  nest  by  branches  borne, 

As  if  a  lucid  spirit  spoke  to  her 

Of  innocence.     Slowly  she  treads,  nor  heeds 

The  thorns  that  would  her  peplus  tear ;  busy, 

As  is  her  wont,  she  finds  repose  in  toil, 

And  dreams  in  harmony  with  mellow  hours 

That  woo  her  grapes  to  ripen.      Flushed  her  cheek ; 

With  intuitions  years  have  amplified 

She  Nature  reads,  discerning  what  instils 

The  mind  with  traits  not  native  to  itself, 

But  are  adapted  from  the  sphere  of  spheres. 

Hence  she  through  Nature  feels  the  motherhood 


78  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Of  light,  of  warmth,  of  life  with  super-sense 

(That  in  our  language  human  lacks  the  means 

Of  speech  divine),  and  on  thee,  Aurora,  looks 

With  a  reverential  concern.  — If  meet 

For  both  a  goddess  and  a  nymph  to  see 

Thee  thus,  how  well  in  beings  less  to  pay 

Oblation  from  the  temple  of  themselves, 

That  would  amend  and  elevate  ideas 

From  earth  to  heaven,  there  to  find  thee  still, 

E'er  ceaseless  in  thy  blissfulness,  and  feel 

Impressions  high  rewarding  moral  pains ! 

Ah,  me  !  thy  blissfulness  supernal,  e'er 

In  youthfulness!     Ah,  me!  there's  mysticism 

Confronting  with  its  outlines  ominous, 

And  backs  would  rather  faces  be,  and  scan 

Past's  light  than  future's  dark — uncertainty 

To  come,  the  which  to  meet,  we  creatures  frail 

Excite  belief  with  a  false  faith  to  keep 

Life's  purpose  roused.     Withal,  pure  consciousness 

Ennobles  our  desires.     Turning  to  thee, 

A  sweetness  and  a  patience  in  thyself 

Assure  somehow  of  favors  yet  to  come 

From  thee — not  echoes  of  mere  joys,  but  joys 

Themselves  unto  the  mood  enamoring — 

And  soothes  contentment  anxiety  o'er  fate. — 

Thy  spell  Tithonus  felt;  requesting  life 

Of  thee,  he  dwelt  within  a  change  by  law, 

Yet  not  exempted  from  the  change  himself, 

He  reached  age  old,  with  it  decline.     Then  long 

He  moaned,  as  one  in  darkness  cast  and  he',  i, 


ADVERSITY.  79 

Unto  the  distant  light  of  fabled  isles, 
Bearing  decrepid  limbs  with  wrinkles  bound, 
His  woe  not  youth  perpetual.     He  witnessed 
In  dawn's  streaked  gray  bewildering  to  child's  eyes, 
Thy  sunny  locks  and  smiling  countenance, 
Thy  beauty  and  alacrity,  whilst  pouring  dew 
And  spreading  flow'rs  as  emblems  of  thyself— 
Unchanged  in  peerless  radiance  (but,  Oh ! 
Him  seeing,  and  deploring  him !)  thou  wert 
The  type  of  what  he  wished  to  be,  but,  ah ! 
Was  not !     Still  it  appears  thy  heart's  own  fires, 
Celestial-kindled  at  the  hearth  of  Time, 
Must  have  in  far  reserves  for  him  and  us 
(Immortals  proving  with  due  worth)  that  which 
Inspires  in  part  with  what  thou  art  thyself. 


ADVERSITY. 

T)O  fragile  blooms,  o'ercome  by  midnight  storm, 
•   Retire  to  grieve  when  rains  assail  their  form  ? 
Does  Spring  grow  pale  when  checked  by  Time  to  know 
She  cannot  beauteous  Summer's  path  down  go  ? 
Ah,  no ! — the  blooms  the  cruel  drops  perfume, 
And  Spring  robes  Time  from  her  adorning  loom. 
Why  is  it,  man,  that  thou  art  false  and  frail 
When  Fate  debars  or  daunts  thy  days  assail? 


8o  CLASSICAL   POEMS. 


FATE   AND  PROPHECY. 

hoar.y  Autumn  spreads  upon  the  mould 
Loose  leaves  of  russet  mixed  with  streaks  of  gold, 
Grim  Boreas,  god-like,  blows  South  a  cloud, 
As  trees  in  sudden  pangs  do  moan  aloud. 
Will  words  of  omen  waive  the  course  of  things- 
Deny  that  Summer  warm,  on  zephry  wings, 
Will  give  calm  joy  to  counterpoise  this  bale? 
Ah,  Fate  will  prove  those  words  an  aimless  tale. 


MAY. 


a  hall  are  placed  a  rare  display 
Of  prints  of  nymphs  and  graces  known  of  old; 
Some  with  thought  strive,  others  with  fancy  play; 

One  by  a  niche  impresses  once  beheld, 
Showing  a  Queen's  bygone  pastoral  throne, 
As  broken  roses  are  about  her  strown. 

n. 
A  woman's  beauty  is  upon  her  face; 

The  spirit's  dignity  still  lingers  there; 
Three  lambs  beside  her  one  another  chase 

Each  moment's  happiness  surcharged  to  share, 


THE  SYBARITE.  81 

As  rests  a  shepherd  on  a  mossy  mound, 
Breathing  quaint  harmony's  Arcadian  sound. 

in. 
Beside  him  near  some  meadow  blooms  invite 

Admiration  with  dewy  splendor  mute  ; 
Under  them  close,  within  a  leaf-wrought  night, 

Are  belle-formed  buds,  each  robed  within  a  suit 
Of  finery,  all  breathing  Lydian  air, 
That  would  have  him  Pan-like  to  linger  there. 

IV. 

His  life  not  vexed  by  dull  or  dolesome  cares; 

His  peace  perpetual,  free  from  battle-harm ; 
His  friendship's  sympathies  not  knowing  snares; 

His  bosom's  depth  afire  with  love's  warm  charm ! — 
Oh,  could  his  notes  be  heard,  thus  honor  May, 
Who  from  her  Southern  zone  comes  forth  to-day! 


THE  SYBARITE. 


~1~  ET  him  in  a  mountain  home 

List  to  mid-day-buzzing, 

List  to  water  rushing, 
Breathe  the  airs  that  mildly,  mildly  roam, 

Scented  with  the  gathered  flowery  treasure 

From  the  golden  glens  of  ideal  pleasure. 


82  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 


Let  calm  Summer  after  Spring 

Rule  this  sphere  of  green 
With  a  queenly  mien, 
Hygeia  by  her  side  well-stored  to  bring 
Scarlet  colors  to  the  cheek,  akin 
To  a  peacefulness  ensouled  within. 

in. 

Let  the  frontage  of  a  villa 
View  in  prospects  wide 
Beauty  glorified — 
Dales  and  fields  of  bobbing  clover  gay, 

As  the  tinkling  bells  of  kine  emerge 
1    From  the  distant  hill-top's  beck'ning  verge. 

IV. 

Let  beguiling  butterflies 

(Each  with  color  bright 

Like  a  spangled  sprite) 
Ramble  'mong  non-seeming  entities; 

And  the  lords  of  maiden  roses,  bees, 

Lull  their  loves  to  sleep  with  more  than  human  ease. 

v. 
Let  him  in  a  bow'r  outspread, 

Crowned  with  clustered  shapes 

Of  empurpled  grapes, 
Feel  the  coming  South,  unheralded, 

Breathe  on  thicket-buds  her  path  before, 

Them  unfolding  hanging  frailly  o'er. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  VENUS.  83 

VI. 

Let  him  hearken  to  a  song, 

With  a  tone  endowed 

Rare  of  music  loud 
(Such  as  Echo's  voice  could  ne'er  prolong), 

And  a  flow  of  fragile-throated  words 

From  a  choir  of  tropic-plumed  birds. 


Let  him  hie,  O  goal,  to  thee — 

Far  from  civic-sound, 

Hie  to  grandeur  round — 
There  to  dwell  awhile,  nor  fail  to  see 

Things  of  hope  that  well  the  fancies  please, 

Like  a  dream-born  realm  o'er  dream-born  seas. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  VENUS. 


TJEHOLD  the  sea!  a  distant  shape  appears 
Within  a  cloudlet  fading  from  the  view, 
As  if  to  seek  the  morn's  exalted  spheres 

To  clothe  itself  with  their  cerulean  hue ; 

Ere  long  with  outlines  fixed,   in  mist  seen  through, 
The  shape  becomes  distinct,  and  overhead 
^Eolus  tunes  his  harp  and  symphonies  are  spread. 


84  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

II. 

Behold  again!     It  is  a  mermaid  queen 
Just  slowly  leaving  her  secluded  home 

Of  coral  walls,  submerged  with  drowsy  green, 
As  by  it  sea-blooms  grow.     At  will  to  roam, 
She  moves  upon  the  free,  unstable  foam 

(As  by  her  feet  dolphins  and  nereids  swim), 

After  a  night,  perhaps,  of  spectral  dreamings  dim. 

in. 

Her  movements  on  the  deep  induce   surprises; 
Gladly  would  knowledge  learn  the  mystery 

That  round  her  throws  a  glamour  of  surmises; 
Full  strange  as  aught  that  in  fore-ages  be 
Appears  this  form  emerging  from  the   sea, 

Decked  with  red  dulse,   to  flutter  to  and  fro, 

To  stand  with  human  weight,  yet  not  sink  downward  low. 

IV. 

Ah,  no! — not  human  she!     What  impulse  high 
Upon  her  brow  pours  an  affluent  parlr" 

Like  vesper  orb!     What   pow'rs  occult  apply 
Their  sorcery,  so  pregnant  with  a  heart, 
To  rule  her  countenance!     O  peerless  Art, 

Couldst  thou  on  canvas  large,  in  colors  bold, 

Once  let  the  pond'ring  mind  her  being  true  behold! 

v. 
Observe! — a  goddess  now  appears  she  there. 

The  surges  o'er  where  maketh  sun-sheen  tender 
A  chaster  glow,  she  rises  up  in  air, 


POMONA.  85 

Impearled  about  and  robed  in  humid  splendor — 
What  graceful  movements  wields  her  figure  slender! 

Once  more  observe — she  fades  in  height  away. 

Alack !  what  speculation  could  her  bourn  portray  ? 


POMONA. 

i. 
pOMONA  known  of  old 

Among  the  citron  groves,  the  purple  swell 
Of  grapes,  the  wholesome  olives  manifold, 
Hast  thou  denied  coy-like  thy  wondrous  spell 
This  our  fair  Western  World  of  freedom's  hold 


Ah,  no! — thou  art  anear. 
Nor  Greece  nor  Rome  with  its  climatic  might 

Could  well  compare  with  what  thy  fruitage-year 
Pours  down  before  Nature's  admiring  sight 

Upon  the  landscapes  of  this  hemisphere. 


Forthwith  behold  around : 
What  ranged  profusion!     What  resplendent  sway! 

The  tree  crowned  hills  triumphant  o'er  the  ground 
Where  valley  verdure  shows  a  like  display 

O£  myriad  treasures  that  in  buds  abound ! 

IV. 

She  with  discerning  hand 
Has  caused  each  growth  its  blossoms  to  unfold — 


86  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

The  brimming  sap  well  upward  to  expand 
To  reach  betime  the  coming  apples  gold — 
Rich  clustered  globes  within  a  pendent  land ! 

v. 

What  wealth  to  her  foreseen 
Will  be  in  August  days  of  honey-bees, 

Hived  by  the  blooms  in  drowsy  orchards  green, 
WThere  she  in  umbrage  may  command  a  breeze 

Offspring  odors  from  their  warm  mothers  wean ! 

VI. 

O  happy  birds,   indeed  ! 
Among  gay  blossoms  on  surrounding  trees, 

Craving  ere  formed  on  cherries  lush  to  feed! 
O  happy  birds  so  careless  in  your  ease ! 

Melodious  prophets  of  your  Summer  need! 

VII. 

Be  ye  but  mouths  to  chant 
To  her  some  sober  phrases  from  each  heart; 

Her  magnify  with  fancy  jubilant ; 
Next  let  her  dwell  before,  like  work  of  art 

In  ideal  musings,  e'er  in  dreams  extant. 


'Tis  well  for  you  to  deem 
That  she  is  mystic,  like  Queen  Mab  of  yore; 

That  she  prevails  within  each  silent  scheme 
Of  ancient  mystery  that  hues  fruit-store 

.For  you,  divulging  gloss  o'er  streaks  of  gleam. 


MY  LADY.  87 

MY  LADY. 


Lady  rules  supreme.     Her  golden  reign 

Is  where  mild  Summer  haunts  from  year  to  year ; 

Indeed,  it  is  a  half-seraphic  sphere. 
There  birds  sing  joy's  immaculate  refrain 
Her  lattice  by  her  daily  heed  to  gain ; 

There  bees,  on  tribute  bent,  in  hives  anear 

Store  comb  by  comb  of  honey  fresh  and  clear; 
There  Nature   (loyal  subject  she)  pours  grain 
From  harvest  fields  into  her  granary— 

In  fact,  all  wealth  is  hers  that  Fortune  holds. 
But  this  is  dross  placed  by  her  sympathy, 
Imbued  with  woman's  classic  potency, 

That  oft  men's  moods  with  sternest  thoughts  embolds. 
Therefore,  'tis  meet  to  cry,  "Long  live,  Your  Majesty!" 


My  lady  plays  a  lute  within  a  bower. 

What  strange  excelling  harmony  hereby 

That  moves  throughout  the  garden !     Not  to  sigh 
Inclines  with  weary  drooping  form  each  flower, 
But  stands  as  if  inspired  by  some  warm  shower. 

Two  turtle-doves  their  flying  wings  apply 

About  her  person,  eager  to  espy 
Her  seated  'mong  green  leaves  a  queen  of  power. 
Thou  harmony  bear  forth  thy  spirit  life ! 

Thy  tones  are  fraught  with  meaning  to  impress 


88  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

With  truer  traits  of  courage  than  are  rife 

When  feast-hummed  music  breathes  at  night  excess ; 
Yet  they  her  well  denote  above  heart-strife  - 

A  thing  of  peace  enthroned  in  loveliness. 

in. 
My  Lady  lives  within  a  scene  of  bliss : 

A  Paradise  within  a  Southern  zone; 

A  simple  bow'r  established  for  her  throne 
Among  rare  roses  that  each  other  kiss ; 
Where  all  things  seem  endowed  with  that  and  this 

To  tinge  deep  senses  with  a  dreamy  tone ; 

Where  calm  eternal  is  with  force  unknown 
To  aid  grim  Time  in  his  ancient  service. 
My  Lady  has  a  pow'r  somewhat  akin 

To  that  of  Time  among  her  roses  rare ; 
Though  less  her  might,  yet  her  meek  features  win 

Bold  breasts  of  men  to  find  a  secret  there, 
That  makes  a  Paradise  themselves  within, 

They  gaining  from  this  source  life's  golden  share. 

IV. 

My  Lady  is  a  being  crowned  among 

Transcendent  things  within  an  Aidenn  goal, 
And  to  them  she's  at  times  a  guardian  soul 

(Like  Flora  of  the  grove),  with  mystic  tongue 

To  minister  to  wants  of  blossoms  young. 
Their  life's  her  life,  so  subtile  to  control 
Their  virtures  till  they  form  a  part,  then  whole 

Of  her  enchantment  all  about  her  sprung. 

But  she  the  hearts  of  strong-limbed  men  doth  sway 


AT  SEA.  89 

With  art  as  fine.     They  feel  her  touch,  and  know 
The  source  whence  she  's  inspired ;  they  to  her  pay 

A  homage  with  their  manhood  all  aglow, 
And  on  her  shrine  a  wreath  of  laurel  lay, 

Nor  care  from  her  in  worldly  ways  to  go. 

v. 

The  pow'r  that  animates  My  Lady's  face, 

Madonna-like,  contains  a-something  rare 

Preferable  to  arts  of  courteous  care, 
Which  oft  denote  a  false  or  borrowed  grace. 
When  she  is  on  her  throne  above  our  race 

Her  words  are  pregnant  with  deep  wisdom's  share, 

Leading  each  hearer  calmly  unaware 
Up  step  by  step  to  Life's  Platonic  place. 
Hence  hope  conceives  a  final  blessedness 

From  thought  of  her.      She  law  creates  within 

That  are  as  ties  to  make  the  heart  akin 
To  her  pure  soul.     O  heart !  move  on  no  less 
That  earth's  dark  roads  are  crooked  to  excess, 

By  her  high  Life's  Platonic  place  to  win. 


AT   SEA. 


COMRADES,  upon  the  deep,  not  shoreward  now; 

It  is  a  port  where  Life  and  Death  e'er  meet ; 
Oh,  let  our  vessel  veer  with  idle  prow ! 

Let  worms  feed  there — the  harvest  is  replete. 


90  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 


n. 


Things  time-worn  have  their  exit  over-soon ; 

Then  why  should  we  aflush  with  labor  doom 
Ouselves  to  shore  ere  prime  of  afternoon  ? 

Let  naught  of  youthful  zeal  our  day  consume. 


Heed  not  the  tide  that  becks  toward  the  shore ; 

It  shines  like  rolling  shields  of  silver  hue; 
'Tis  a  decoy,  the  fancy  vexed  to  store 

With  images  destructive  to  pursue. 

IV. 

Rather  stay  here  and  drowse  upon  the  flow, 

Where  move  the  demon  dangers  round  in  stealth, 

Where  hungry  sharks  now  seek  in  depths  below 

The  drowned  man's  bones  among  his  rock-wrecked  wealth. 

v. 

Let  us  pause  long.     There's  virtue  borne  by  men 
That  mocks  at  haste.      Let  some  supernal  boon, 

As  off  our  days  retire  and  come  again, 

Thought's  movements  to  a  pleasure  slow  attune. 


Or  let  our  pilot  there,  with  pagan  heart, 
The  Present  make  a  god,  to  be  beguiled 

To  follow  luck  where'er  it  may  impart 
Rare  harmony  from  some  ^Eolian  wild. 


THE  CAGED  BIRD.  91 


VII. 


With  petrel  wings  we'll  pass  the  haunting  storm, 
We'll  breathe  equator  air,  know  tropic  calms, 

We'll  anchor  by  the  coral  islet's  form, 

We'll  feel  the  joy  of  wondrous  Southern  calms. 


No  struggles  weary-wise  that  may  give  bane ; 

Life's  systems  fall  below  their  models  rare ; 
Why  seek  the  depths  or  heights  with  turmoils  vain  ? 

Why  seek  the  night  when  day  is  everywhere  ? 


THE   CAGED   BIRD. 


yearnings  vain  and  emulative  fire 
Thy  tones  express ! 
Thou  wouldst  gain  mountain  heights  with  pure  desire 
'  The  pilgrim's  soul  in  valley  of  distress 
To  bathe  with  flood  of  sound  of  warmest  tenderness ; 


Or  maiden  lone,  love  lurking  in  her  eyes, 

Busy  with  dreams, 
Whose  spell  supreme  conducts  romantic-wise 

To  realms  remote,  where  life's  commingling  streams, 
In  currents  deep  and  clear,  have  wondrous  gleams  o'er 
gleams ; 


92  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

III. 

Or  youth  within  his  thought's  broad  solitude, 
To  broodings  prone, 

Yet  with  ambition's  longings  stern  imbued, 
Renown  to  reach,  hill-dwelling  and  alone, 
Who  beckons  him  to  climb  with  loud  triumphant  tone. 

IV. 

Poor  foolish  bird ! — thou  dupe  to  wretched  fancies  !— 

If  thou  wert  free 
Thy  cherishings  would  die  as  do  June's  pansies — 

Too  soon  thy  fervid  music  broken  be, 

Like  mermaid  melody  in  a  chaotic  sea. 

v. 
Then  let  repining  cease,  voluble  bird ! 

More  bitter  seem 

Thy  thoughts  than  draughts  from  quassia-cup — they  curd 
The  outward  flow  of  flattery — to  deem 
Thee  without  full  desert  prevents  a  full  esteem. 

VI. 

Lightly  arise  to  sing  of  happy  things  — > 
Life's  charities. 

With  harmony's  impulse  well  know  the  springs 
Of  vital  force  and  of  effective  ease, 
But  e'er,  like  Apollo's  lute,  have  a  tone  please. 

vn. 

Let  not  thy  spirit's  false  forebodings  see 
Fate  that  alarms ; 


THE  ROYAL  ROAD.  93 

Though  a  prisoner,  yet  king-thoughted  be, 

Thy  realm  To-morrow,  free  from  gorgon-harms, 
Full  to  the  brilliant  verge  of  Time's  selected  charms 


THE  ROYAL  ROAD. 


A 


WINDING  road  conducts  down  to  a  glen, 

About  whose  sides  some  cavern  depths  allure 
With  hall-like  passages,  wherein  the  ken 

Beholds  a  smoothness  for  the  footsteps  sure  ; 
Conducts  by  vines  and  shrubs  with  vivid  dyes, 
To  fields  that  fill  the  mind  with  strange  surmise. 

II. 

Here  soil's  rare  plants  in  true  succession  reign ; 

Here  damask-roses  court  the  roaming  breeze; 
Here  rock-formed  hollows  show  a  mineral  vein  ; 

Here  spread  profusion  tempts  the  hand  to  seize ; 
Onward  lead  paths,  paved  with  a  pebbly  mass, 
To  growths  of  shade  as  fresh  as  April  grass. 

in. 
Seat  of  enjoyment,  of  serenity ! 

You  hold  the  few  who  shepherd-like  adore 
The  guidance  of  supernal  mystery ; 

Who  know  so  well  what  pathway  to  explore; 
Who  lead  their  flocks,  on  wholesome  pasture  bent, 
To  hilly  heights  where  naught  is  imminent, 


94  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

IV. 

You  hold  the  few  who  seek  the  Summer  reign 
Of  warmth  and  growth ;  you  well  extend  an  aid 

To  mortals  prone  to  seek  superior  gain, 
Which  elevates  above  the  haunting  shade 

Of  brick-and-mortar  towns;  no  busy  days 

Impose  their  troubles  in  their  divers  ways. 

v. 
Here  Virtue  is  demure  ;  there  's  Health,  whose  hair 

Sports  round  enduring  blushes ;  near  is  Hope, 
With  secret  presence  in  her  wizard  air ; 

Patience  reclines  upon  a  mossy  slope, 
And  now  she  reads  absorbed,  and  now  she  dozes; 
Some  are  beguiled  as  humor  them  disposes. 

VI. 

Here  Youth,  imbrowned  with  tan,  moves  quickly  by 
Enters  Manhood  Wisdom's  secluded  cell; 

Energy  near  is  ready  forth  to  hie ; 

Courage  before  leads  to  a  rugged  dell ; 

And  patriarchal  Age,  his  dame  beside, 

Goes  to  and  fro — contentment  typified! 

VII. 

Possesses  each  a  vista  clear  before ; 

Each  knows  to  use  those  boons  by  Time  bestowed 
Each  summons  up  his  courage  to  explore 

The  broad  Beyond  upon  the  Royal  Road 
Of  earth,  with  purposes  which  generate 
A  love  of  calm,  of  truth,  of  final  fate. 


THE  A  P  PI  AN  IV A  Y.  95 


THE  APPIAN  WAY. 


HPHE  Way  eternal  is;  though  some  remote 
Consider  it — not  so! — in  every  sphere 
It  is,  combining  with  itself  the  note 

Of  song  above  with  sense  of  what  is  here, 
To  help  thought  up  to  noblest  altitude, 
To  find  that  peopled  deemed  a  solitude. 

ii. 
The  Way  leads  forward  through  an  arbored  aisle 

Of  bearing  vines,  whose  stems  are  decked  with  fruit 
Worthy  a  king's  choice  flasket ;  where  to  while 

Their  hours  oft  vintagers  resort  when  hoot 
Grave  owls ;  when  Night,  shade-mantled,  comes  to  mourn 
About  the  hills  with  mellow-noted  horn. 

in. 
The  Dawn  beholds  a  few  who  tread  the  Way, 

Their  heed  engaged  upon  a  point  on  high 
They've  heard  of  oft,  and  certain  to  display 

Outlines  at  last  consoling  to  the  eye. 
So  on  they  push,  hardships  to  undergo, 
Their  end  to  gain,  as  summits  o'er  them  glow. 

IV. 

Index-boards  here  and  there,  with  festoons  wrought 

Into  arising  verdant  coils,  up  guide ; 
As  hill-born  brooklets,  with  their  sparkles  fraught, 


96  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Spread  forth  mild  flowage  that  down  channels  glide 
A  high  flamingo  flies,  in  scarlet  furled, 
As  if  emerging  from  dim  Afric's  world. 

v. 

Still  upward  leads  the  Way.     The  airy  hall 

Of  Morn  no  equal  has  for  such  a  life ! 
From  concord-breathing  glens  issues  a  call 

And  tells  of  sylvan  bounds  with  shepherds  rife ; 
Next  sounds  commingle  far,  and  mildly  roll 
Like  spirit-joys  proceeding  to  a  goal. 

VI. 

Delay  not  near  that  hillock  green  and  trim 
Briefly  to  recognize  those  buds  serene  ; 

They  to  much  worth  espoused  conceive  a  whim 
To  shy  from  sight  and  be  as  things  unseen ; 

But  yonder  push  to  that  excelling  seat 

With  other  hours  than  man's  from  yore  replete. 


There 's  calm  about  within  an  area  vast 
To  make  the  bosom  with  reflections  glow 

Most  fit  to  form  impressions  to  outlast 

Mere  musings  of  a  moment's  come  and  go; 

A  calm  to  plant  those  sterling  traits  within 

That  rise  until  to  stable  strength  akin. 

VIII. 

There  are  events  combined  with  sober  day 
In  solitude  among  deep  forest  boughs, 


THE  STATUE.  97 

Where  spirits  seem  to  hover  and  delay, 

To  murmur  of  a  now  that  Time  endows ; 
To  bid  ambition  forthwith  know  repose — 
Body  and  soul  their  opposition  close. 

IX. 

There  wayfarers  remain  ;  averse  they  feel 
Unto  experience  prior,  most  prone  to  press 

Them  from  those  earnest  studies  that  reveal 
The  latitude  of  higher  consciousness — 

A  succor  pleasing,  seen  of  that  without 

Which  them  contrived  to  keep  in  years  of  doubt. 


THE  STATUE. 

i. 
TTPON  a  worldly  highway  was  a  stone 

Of  marble  smooth  that  long  forgotten  lay , 
The  Winter  frigid  claimed  it  for  its  own, 
Impressing  blots  for  Time  to  wash  away; 
The  Summer  torrid,  with  a  fickle  sway, 
Blew  rain  or  dust  upon  it  noon  by  noon 
Until  it  seemed  a  corse  denied  a  burial  boon. 

n. 

Great  throngs  of  people  journeyed  to  and  fro : 

Philosophers  with  wisdom  in  their  mien ; 
Merchants,  some  scowling,  others  all  aglow ; 


98  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Soldiers  off  duty,  easy  and  serene ; 

Heroes,  statesmen,  each  with  ambition  keen ; 
Lawyers,  artists,  scholars ;  beggars  beside 
Bankers  and  nobles  spurring  horses  eager-eyed. 

in. 

In  all  this  multitude  not  one  down  cast 
A  look  of  sympathy  upon  the  stone; 

It  was  a  relic  from  a  distant  past 

Endowed  with  form,  although  but  slightly  shown 
(Like  a  body  with  a  soul  to  beauty  prone), 

For  Art  to  shape  unto  a  semblance  new 

That  would  suggest  to  man  an  ideal  meaning  true. 

IV. 

A  youth  demure  of  penetrative  strain 
Beheld  the  marble  pariah.     His  breast, 

Exalted  by  ambition's  wise  disdain 

Of  hours  misused,  long  felt  its  plight  unblest; 

Next  schemes  and  dreams  disturbed  his  nights  of  rest; 

He  strived  for  strength  to  wrestle  from  its  doom 

A  monitory  form  a  mission  to  assume. 

v. 

At  last,  surrounded  by  a  doubting  tribe, 

He  wrought  with  chisel-chippings  on  the  stone ; 

Advisements  held  he  often  to  imbibe 
From  purest  elements  of  self  a  tone 
To  mark  the  image  with  a  seeming  own 

Of  goodness,  beauty,  united  to  a  charm, 

To  woo  a  busy  world  from  evil's  mighty  harm. 


THE  STATUE.  99 

VI. 
Time  aftor  time  he  labored  at  his  task; 

Denied  himself  the  pleasures  of  the  throng, 
As  some,  perhaps  with  gibes,  would  stop  to  ask 

Pointless  questions,  next  smile  and  deem  him  wrong; 

His  earnest  will  was  adequately  strong, 
Nor  swerved  a  day — most  like  a  growing  oak 
That  firmly  stood  when  stormy  mock'ries  o'er  it  broke. 

VII. 

Behold !  a  shape  at  last  was  there  in  view; 

A  figure  formed  from  strokes  of  firmest  will ; 
It  seemed  a  being  noble  through  and  through— 

A  something  rare  to  waken  and  to  thrill 

With  face  benign,  and  fitted  to  instil 
Deep  tongueless  thoughts  with  dialect  of  art 
Well  known  to  those  who  speak  the  language  of  the  heart. 


Anon  a  square  pedestal  he  contrived; 

Beside  its  base  minutest  germs  were  strown, 
That  grew  to  buds  and  next  as  flowers  thrived ; 

And  then  the  form  he  heaved  with  brawny  skill 

Up  to  its  place  superior  on  a  hill ; 
Around  the  whole  a  guardian  hedge  was  thrown, 
Watchful  to  prick  with  thorns  the  reckless  finger-bone. 

IX. 

He  next  upon  the  smooth  pedestal  cut, 
"Una !  "  that  all  the  people  might  behold 
Through  it  one  whom  they  had  to  slavery  put : 


100  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

A  maid  unworthy  of  their  ways  of  gold — 
A  doe  within  a  boa's  devouring  fold— 
A  head  downcast — a  voice  to  utter  wee — 
A  door  unhinged  to  creak,  world-winds  assailed  it  so. 

x. 

The  statue,  standing  by  the  highway  wide, 
With  right  extended  arm  directed  feet 

Toward  a  narrow  road  diverging,  spied 
Afar  connected  with  a  cool  retreat, 
Where  laurels  rose  about  a  temple's  seat ; 

Where  deep  recesses  near  denoted  life, 

Secure  from  din,  with  wholesome  fruitage  rife. 

XI. 

There  day  by  day  to  point  pale  Una  stood, 
As  on  her  gleams  descended  from  the  blue ; 

There  night  by  night,  dimmed  by  vicissitude 
(For  thunder-storms  hid  stars  and  off  withdrew), 
The  flow  of  life  she  sought  with  effort  true 

To  move  from  gloom  a  sunshine  to  attain — 

To  roll  in  channels  right  to  seek  truth's  main. 

XII. 

The  multitude,  oft  mingling  to  and  fro, 
With  curious  ken  the  noble  figure  viewed ; 

With  steps  indifferent  some  faltered,  though 
They  with  its  meaning  failed  to  be  imbued; 
The  mass  went  to  a  city  murky-hued; 

Yet  none,  alas !  unto  the  temple  near, 

Its  green  repose  amid  an  Eden  atmosphere. 


THE  ISLAND. "  '.  '  ' 

XIII. 
From  a  wilderness  afar  a  demon  came, 

By  Una  grinned  a  dismal  hour  or  more, 
Until  she  seemed  to  tremble  through  her  frame, 

Hence  to  his  goal  his  awkward  aspect  bore. 

In  turn  an  angel  from  the  azure  o'er 
Came  meekly  down,  and  in  her  shadow  shed 
A  tear  of  condolence  before  she  homeward  sped. 

XIV. 

The  youth,  now  grown  to  manhood  prime,  retired 
To  spend  his  days  within  the  temple  nigh, 

To  dedicate  himself  to  moods  inspired ; 
Leaving  the  statue  in  neglect,  to  lie 
A  cumbrous  ruin  stretched  the  highway  by — 

Its  pieces  vain  confusedly  at  large, 

An  easy  prey  for  Age  of  burial  means  in  charge. 


THE  ISLAND, 
i. 

A  PART  from  worldly  schemes  that  often  mar, 

Or  give  ambition  but  a  passing  shade ; 
Apart  from  plights  that  noble  aims  debar, 

And  leave  self  low  self  higher  to  degrade  : 
O'er  such  supreme  the  Fancy,  prone  to  roam, 
Now  leads  to  limits  formed  for  souls  who  turn  from  home. 


'  '•  •"  I  b 2  •'* '"  " ' '     :  :  • ' ;  *  CLASSICS L  POEMS. 

An  isle  it  is  within  a  foreign  sphere, 

Enriched  by  Truth ;  where  Goodness  has  all  day, 
Where  Evil  has  no  night.     To  deem  it  near 

'Tis  ease,  and  strange  beguilement  to  portray — 
This  air-born  picture  coming  slowly  to  instil, 
With  sheen  touched  o'er  not  native  to  art's  human  skill. 


There  is  a  meadow  with  a  river  by ; 

Cygnets  and  water-fowls  move  to  and  fro ; 
Barges  and  barks  with  silken  sails  supply 

Beguiling  rides  as  odored  breezes  blow, 
As  vestal  Echo  to  the  ear  affords, 
From  rocky  bourns  remote,  her  sylvan-sounding  words. 

There  are  smooth  paths  of  shade  beside  the  stream ; 

These  scholars  screen  who  turn  to  banks  to  muse  ; 
Or  converse  hold  in  groups  on  some  apt  theme ; 

Or  to  light  ways  inclined  a  number  choose 
To  watch  the  cygnets  on  the  current  slow 
Kissing  the  eddies  clear  that  to  their  bosoms  flow. 

in. 

There  is  a  grove  whose  verdure  low  and  high 
Shelters  the  feathered  nest  from  noontide  glows. 

The  many  hymns  of  birds  address  the  sky  ; 
How  happy-throated  the  harmony  flows ! 

The  Day  ensouled  the  inspiration  feels, 

And  throbs  as  does  a  nun  when  she  to  prayer  steals. 


THE  ISLAND.  103 

Here  flowers  wild  in  bushy  settlement 

Regal  affairs  conduct  in  courtly  state ; 
But  some  with  eyes  idolatrous  upbent 

Implore  a  shade  above,  as  if  of  late 
A  juggling  god  within  a  cloud  of  gold 
Had  rained  down  magic  hues  their  petals  to  unfold. 

IV. 

Thickets  of  palm  excel  with  smooth  retreats ; 

Near  orange  groves  their  golden  fruitage  drop ; 
Hedges  of  figs  unmask  their  seeded  sweets ; 

Stand  trees  in  rows,  each  has  a  burdened  prop, 
O'er  which  hang  blossoms  white,  and  fall  below 
Into  the  lap  of  earth,  like  flakes  of  Autumn  snow. 

Vineyards  abound  where  grapes  from  coverts  peep 
Each  cluster  rare  immures  the  coming  wine  ; 

It  yearns  to  break  the  purple  walls,  to  leap 
Into  bright  bowls,  and  gayly  to  combine 

Itself  with  noise,  joyance  and  festal  song, 

To  charm  the  palate  with  its  spirit  keen  and  strong. 

v. 

A  road  leads  here  and  there.     The  distant  ways 
Are  broadly  spread.     The  bees  their  sweets  imbibe 

Within  the  girdle  of  a  valley's  maze, 

Where  butterflies,  a  Gypsy,  careless  tribe, 

Range  in  the  circle  of  an  aerial  calm, 

Free  from  urchin  ardor  pursuing  to  impalm. 


104  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

A  field  within  the  vale  bears  bearded  corn ; 

Another  oaks,  where  plays  with  music  true 
A  brook  about  a  bank,  on  which  adorn 

The  azure  cups  of  buds  bedecked  with  dew, 
Or  blooms  most  bright,  there  dropped  by  hand  unseen 
Of  warm-breathed  South  when  once  she  faltered  o'er  the 
scene. 

VI. 

Beyond  are  forest-trees  aflush  with  life ; 

The  sun  appears  them  calmly  to  observe. 
Within  their  shades  what  subtile  airs  are  rife  i — 

An  indescribable,   unique  reserve — 
A  mysterious  instinct  of  earth  that  clothes 
Itself  in  robes  of  green  encrowned  with  heaven's  glows. 

It  is  a  forest  huge — a  choice  supreme, 

In  which  a  Diana  might  hap  to  ride 
At  noon  upon  a  steed  out-breathing  steam; 

Or  blow  her  horn ;  or  deem  that  were  beside 
The  hamadryads — deem  that  they  her  viewing 
Would  pallid  turn  forthwith,   their  envy  her  pursuing. 

VII. 

Another  spot  is  gained.     See  hedges  old 

Where  osiers  bear  their  heavy  burdens  well; 

Hear  torrent-murmurs  far,  all  downward  rolled, 
That  mingle  with  the  tinkles  of  a  bell; 

Mark  offspring  mounts,  evoking  sweet  surprise, 

Some  seen  with  humble  huts  arranged  companion-wise. 


THE  ISLAND.  105 

The  smoke  arises  from  those  moss-roofed  haunts. 

There  dwell  those  who  in  routines  rural  go; 
They  breathe  and  wonder,  knowing  not  the  daunts 

Of  spendthrift  hopes  that  men  impov'rish  so; 
On  homebred  things  they  daily  place  their  mind, 
And  bid  to  civil  arts  their  eyes  be  half-purblind. 

VIII. 

Anon  is  seen  a  youth  hard  by  a  tree; 

He  wields  a  pipe;  within  his  meadow-sphere 
He  pours  a  tone  of  happy  harmony. 

By  him  five  lambs  are  subjects  of  his  cheer ; 
They  move  aloof,  their  strength  to  exercise, 
But  backward  come  ere  long  his  sounds  to  idolize. 

Hard  by  a  garden  choice  of  mixed  perfumes 

Invites  a  maiden  form  to  move  around 
Its  labyrinths;  she  gleans  rare  crimson  blooms 

And  weaves  them  into  wreaths.     Something  profound 
Upon  her  brow  depicts  pure  thoughts  within, 
And  speaks  of  her  as  one  to  tender  things  akin. 

IX. 

Beside  a  road  well  sheltered  from  the  heat, 
By  rows  of  ancient  oaks,  with  passive  air, 

A  marble  lion  is;  between  its  feet 
A  lamb  reposes — lo !  a  happy  pair! 

A  chiseled  figure  crowned  with  heaven's  rays, 

Whereon  the  hand  of  Age  no  Vandal  mark  displays. 


106  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

A   fane  not  far  is  by  thick  laurel  shades; 

There  Priestess  Peace  imparts  her  truth  to  guide; 
A  composure  demure  within  her  aids 

To  hold  each  one  a  student  at  her  side; 
Her  speech  as  potent  is;  both  join  to  give 
A  store  of  thoughts  that  eke,  once  eked  show  how  to  live. 

x. 

A  group  stands  where  the  fane  its  shadow  throws; 

Their  features  grave  are  with  expressions  fraught; 
They  talk  of  wealth,  of  Time's  most  true  repose, 

Of  worldly  goods  with  wasted  efforts  bought, 
Of  specious  hopes  that  urge  aspiring  man 
His  life's  allotted  date  with  restless  years  to  span. 

Yet  hold  they  that  a  pow'r,  although  not  known, 
Upward  from  birth  deep  minds  to  aid  surround, 

Infusing  day  by  day  a  dreamy  tone, 

That  moves  each  one  to  something  vague,  profound, 

Whereby  he  may  sojourn  in  castles  rare, 

In  foreign  regions  true,  yet  naught  material  there. 

XI. 

Nestling  within  a  glen  ascending  back 

To  mountain  roads  and  wild  and  lofty  seats, 

A  little  town  is  by  a  shoreward  track ; 

Here  house  near  house  confronts  three  broad-laid  streets, 

Where  sailors  dwell,  a  stern  and  humble  class, 

Who  half  their  rugged  years  upon  the  ocean  pass. 


BEFORE  AND  AFTER   THE   VOYAGE.  107 

Sea-fowls  contend  with  wind  and  water,  prone 

To  bathe  their  feathers  in  a  briny  bay; 
Agile  and  reckless,  pleasure  is  their  own, 

Nor  do  they  it  abuse  with  vain  delay, 
But  homeward  hie  betime  among  cliffs  bare, 
Where  climbing  vines  alone  approach  their  refuge  rare. 

XII. 

Throw  forth  the  gaze  afar  above  the  wave, 
Where  mullets  gay  and  golden  fishes  roam ; 

Where  sea-nympths  once  upswelled  ('tis  said)  to  lave 
Their  hair's  redundance  in  the  hoary  foam  ; 

An  eager  fleet  now  comes,  with  gathered  might 

From  balmy  winds,  to  reach  this  island  of  delight. 

Between  small  isles,  on  which  are  cypress  spires, 
They  come,  emerging  from  a  current  wide, 

From  a  great  world  of  dearth  and  foiled  desires, 
That  strips  men  bare  of  all  aspiring  pride ; 

Where  motley  throngs  of  anxious  people  go 

Confusedly  around  a  huge,  delusive  show. 


BEFORE  AND  AFTER  THE  VOYAGE, 
i. 

~Y/¥~Y  argosy,  go  seek  strange  Fortune's  main ; 

There  in  far  voyage  hail  an  island  shore; 
There  let  thy  crew  the  island  depths  explore, 
In  earth's  deep  mine  dislodge  bright  golden  grain 


io8  CLASSICAL  POEMS. 

Wherewith  to  forge  a  pure,  encircling  chain ; 

Oh,  bring  me  furthermore  a  floral  store 

(Such  as  Pomona  meek  might  half  adore), 
Nice  silks,  quaint  gauds  and  fruits  of  hybrid  strain. 
Well  would  each  largess  charm  Olivia  dear. 

My  argosy,  hence  of  fresh  sails  make  sure ; 

Prepare  repelling  dangers  to  endure — 
Surges'  uproar  at  daybreak  lacking  cheer. 

But  what  are  daunts  by  treasures  to  procure 
With  which  to  grace  her  form  without  a  peer  ? 

ii. 

My  argosy's  come  home.     What  freight  of  ore  ! 

What  silks  produced  with  craftsman's  choicest  skill ! 

What  tropic  blooms  impressing  with  a  thrill  ! 
What  fruits  out-blushing  fabled  ones  of  yore ! 
Olivia  fair,  the  sail  these  homeward  bore 

That  thou  mightst  turn  their  service  to  thy  will, 

Yet  be  to  all  a  sceptred  presence  still, 
Ruling  with  grace  thy   kingdom  spreading  more. 
But  after  all,  this  wealth  seems  not  designed 

To  give  meet  setting  to  thy  woman's  worth ; 
And,  too,  appears  at  times  the  motive  blind 

That  would  deck  thee  with  what  by  thee  is  dearth: 
For  so  endowed  thy  beauty  and  thy  mind 

They  simply  move  the  world — 't  was  so  from   birth. 


THE    END. 


5ITY  OF  CALIFOENIA  LIBKABY, 
BEEKELEY 

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